


Out of the Sun

by Sarasaturday13



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Poe Dameron (Comics)
Genre: BB-8 Ships It, Cussing, F/M, Furry animals, Life on Base, Lots of OCs - Freeform, Mary Sue, Slice of Life, everyone ships it, shameless self-indulgent OC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-24 21:31:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17108495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarasaturday13/pseuds/Sarasaturday13
Summary: When her small, isolated tribe donates a herd of livestock to the Resistance, a young woman volunteers to accompany the animals as a caregiver. Over time, she makes friends with pilots, mechanics, officers, soldiers, and droids; she becomes romantically entangled with the handsome and charming Poe Dameron; she embarks on all kinds of adventures; and she finds herself facing dangers she never could have imagined.Dedicated to Kyber-Hearts-and-Stardust-SoulsLanguage, violence, eventual smut.Looking at around 60,000 words when finished.





	1. An Arrival

D'Qar was green. It almost looked like home from a distance. The green stretched as far as the eye could see, not quite like home. Ellra could almost feel the humidity now, safely strapped into the passenger compartment of a small livestock shuttle, even though the cabin was artificially cooled. Lakes glimmered in the distance where the sun shone through the clouds. Rolling hills cast shadows, peculiar looking from this height.

The descent was easy, just like the entire journey from Ellra's home planet, Tawria. Her first time away from home - her home village, her home planet, her home quadrant of the galaxy - had been a pleasant little adventure, chatting with the pretty pilot, reassuring the animals in the hold, learning more about the Resistance, receiving instruction on interacting with the strangers she would soon meet from her traveling companion, Karak.

As she watched the surface of the planet grow larger in the front viewport, the debris ring seemingly parting to welcome her, Ellra’s heart shuddered in gleeful anticipation. The fear she felt at such a monumental change paled in the shadow of her desire to be here, her thirst for adventure, her urge to do what was right, her _need_ to be here.

Her people, the Ishta, decided to donate a portion of their wealth, a heard of large animals, to the Resistance, because they didn’t have anything else of value to contribute. When her father, the leader of the Ishta, had asked the villagers for a volunteer to live on the Resistance’s secret base and care for the animals, Ellra leapt at the opportunity. She wasn’t certain why, but she knew in her heart it was the right decision. The spirits she consulted reassured her, deep down in her soul, that this was what she was supposed to do. Her friends and family, also assured by the spirits, blessed her decision. Two days later, she boarded the shuttle with her travelling companion and all her things.

Now, the real adventure was beginning.

The shuttle settled noisily down on the winding tarmac which was neatly, almost delicately nestled in a valley surrounded by lush emerald hills. The hills were dotted with antenna and satellite arrays as well as grey stone ruins from centuries before. Big, glimmering ships rested intermittently on the tarmac, in various states of repair and cleanliness. Ellra immediately recognized a T-70 X-wing starfighter craft from an image she had seen in a news feed; her heart fluttered in her chest at the sight.

A crowd of people in bright orange flightsuits, olive and tan uniforms, green coveralls, and civilian dress stood gathered in front of what appeared to be a huge hangar embedded in a hollowed-out hillside; more spacecraft were visible in the shadowy interior. That one structure seemed larger than half of Ellra's home village.

The door of the shuttle's hold opened slowly, hissing as the pressure equalized. The animals lowed as their sinuses popped and crackled. Frankly, Ellra's ears popped too, but she thought it impolite to low before strangers. It was as humid as she had imagined; her mountain of silvery curls suddenly felt lank against her back.

Karak, the emissary of their village, stepped out of the shuttle onto the tarmac. Clothed in a ceremonial gold and brown gown, he raised his arms out and lowered his head in respect to the Resistance's leadership.

" _Emra vo_ ," he said in greeting.

Ellra stepped out beside him, awestruck by the sight of her reception on this foreign planet.

"Welcome, both of you," said a gentle, regal voice.

The voice belonged to a tiny woman, older, perhaps in her 60s. She was dressed in a heavy, ornate wrap over an aubergine gown that glittered subtly in the diffused sunlight. Her nickel-colored hair must have been miles long; it was piled high in an elegant beehive, suspended impossibly behind her head; around the beehive were wrapped tiny braids and gold cord. She exuded grace, benevolence, and power, like some kind of deity.

She was flanked on each side by several important-looking lieutenants: a young blonde girl with peculiar braids in her hair, clutching a datapad and smiling sweetly; a handsome man in civvies with soft-black curls dancing in the breeze; a stern older gentleman in an olive uniform, his hands folded militarily behind his back; two pilots in flightsuits, standing at ease, their faces polite but concerned; and a silver and gold protocol droid who looked uncomfortable even though its face didn’t appear capable of expression.

Ellra had never seen such a grand display on any occasion. Before her were more people than she'd ever seen. She'd never felt so small.

Karak clasped the older woman's hands graciously.

"General Organa," he said, maybe a little too unctuously. "I am Emissary Karak of the Ishta. It is an honor to represent our people to you and the Resistance. It brings our people immense pride to share our wealth with you to aid your great cause. May I present Cappa Keeper Ellra Oka."

Karak gestured to Ellra dramatically and she bowed to the general and the group.

For the first time in her journey, Ellra felt nervous. She hadn’t anticipated such a reception. As she bowed humbly, she said, as she'd rehearsed many times in her head, "It is the greatest honor I can imagine to be of service to the Resistance. I look forward to my future here with you all."

Once the obligation of the formalities had been met - an important part of the Ishta's culture - conversation broke free. The general and the blonde technician began confirming information with Karak and the transport pilot. The pilots and most of the uniformed people dispersed, clearly having important things to do. A few others lingered, giving the impression they wanted to learn more about the newcomers.

Several people began hounding Ellra with questions. Questions about her people, her planet, the animals she had brought. She was pleasantly overwhelmed. So many beautiful faces of all shapes, sizes and colors surrounded her, even metal ones. They smiled and listened intently to her answers. They also had plenty to tell her themselves.

"We never had live animals on a Rebellion base in my day!” cried a beaming older face full of bright teeth.

"I know!" gasped Ellra, beaming back. "That's part of why I volunteered to come! I was so excited to take part in something new!"

"You're gonna love it here," boomed a deep voice from a large, grinning face. "It's a lot like Tawria!"

A bloopy voice said through thick lips, "I can't remember the last time I had fresh meat!"

A tiny person with a tiny face and a tiny voice said, "I helped build the paddock! I want to show you!"

Ellra smiled and looked around as a dozen people shook her hand. She shook soft and small hands, large and calloused hands, metal hands, flippers, paws. It was exhilarating.

Her eyes sought out those of her traveling companion. He gave her a permissive nod. She nodded in response.

Before looking back in front of her, Ellra glanced at the general, who spared her a motherly smile. The handsome man at the general's right hand cast a friendly grin and a soft gaze, momentarily withering her confidence for some reason. She gulped and looked back at the companions before her.

"I need sixteen volunteers to unload the cappa!" she said jubilantly.

It was only a matter of moments before sixteen excited volunteers were lined up in front of the transport, a rope clutched in each of their hands.

Ellra jogged in and out of the hold, leading the animals out individually, passing each one off to one of her volunteers. Many of the people present had never seen any kind of livestock. They oohed and ahhed at the graceful creatures as they waltzed out of the hold, their lilac-silver coats shimmering as they shook off the cramps of interstellar travel.

"That's a cappa!" cried a dark-skinned man, pointing triumphantly at the creature's peaceful face.

"Seventeen of them!" giggled Ellra, handing one to the man. Her formal language relaxed as she grew comfortable around the eager welcomers.

The creatures were a little unusual, especially if one wasn't acquainted with livestock or beasts of burden. They were three meters tall at the top of their heads, shaggy and fat. Their black eyes were startlingly small for the size of their heads, and a bushy fringe protected the eyes from the sun and wind. The fronts of their faces were slightly convex with defined sinus chambers that resonated with the creatures’ breathing; when the cappa lowed, a deep, hollow cry, their faces vibrated. Their chubby, hairy legs ended in bizarrely round paws. Those present couldn't see the extremely tough pads on the bottom of the paws, but they were equipped to withstand hot sands and rough terrain as well as soft grass; crystalline claws provided adequate traction in mud and water.

The tiny person who helped build the paddock stepped closer to her cappa, gently stroking her tiny fingers through the candy floss coat. "It's so soft!" she exclaimed.

"It makes the most comfortable fleece!" said Ellra, bringing out yet another creature. "It is what I'm wearing right now!"

A handful of people reached out and felt the hem of her seashell pink tunic that she extended.

Each cappa's coat was a slightly different shade. Some went as far as a pinkish lavender, some went all the way to a dull, mousy grey. Each animal had a rope that knotted around its arched neck, woven of silky reeds and dyed bright colors to contrast its coat.

Ellra had tended these animals almost since her birth. The pride she felt now, showing them off, telling others about them, listening to the excited murmuring, it was overwhelming. From the top of the loading ramp, she looked out at everyone present, the last cappa's lead in her hands, smiling at her new friends.

General Organa strode about gracefully, glancing over the creatures. She and her closest lieutenants had already learned everything it was possible to learn about Tawria, the Ishta, and the cappa only hours after the Ishta's chief made the offer to donate the animals. The two foremen in charge of the construction of the paddock also had quickly become versed.

"They're actually bigger than I pictured, General," said the general's handsome right hand, looking up at the creature.

The cappa tilted its head to fix a beady eye on him and lowed softly, its large nostrils chuffing.

"Let's get back to work, Commander," said the general, her mauve lips flicking into a sly smirk. "Before this thing gets too interested in you."

"Yes, ma'am," said the commander, grinning right back at her.

"Miss Oka?" added General Organa, looking around the beast at Ellra.

"Ellra, please, ma'am," she said, leading the cappa down the ramp.

"Ellra, once you get the animals settled, I'd like to see you. May I send for you before dinner?" asked the general.

"Please, ma'am," said Ellra, bowing her head slightly. "I look forward to it."

The general and several of her lieutenants left with the transport pilot and Karak. The rest of the crowd dispersed, leaving Ellra with her sixteen volunteers and seventeen cappa.

Ellra stood before her group and said, "Well, who wants to show me the paddock?"

The group tittered cheerfully and the tiny person led the way.

The valley in which the tarmac was situated was meandering to say the least. It was clearly a benefit to the base's security, but it was a little overwhelming to someone used to flatter plains.

At the end of the valley, some of the hills flattened out into a small glen, which was surrounded by tall wire fences; big, lush jungle trees shaded the enclosure and hid the fence from aerial views. Every 5 meters the fence was equipped with delicate sensors that were connected to the main security system.

The tiny person and the person with the booming voice, who were the second and first foremen on the project, respectively, rattled off every detail about the construction of the enclosure and its security.

"This datapad has a program installed so you can monitor the enclosure wherever you are on base,” said a pale, pudgy young man, handing Ellra a flat, handheld computer.

"Thank you," said Ellra, nodding at everyone who spoke.

The animals were released momentarily, and their graceful walk became a plodding saunter as they dispersed through the trees. Ellra's heart soared at the sight. She ceremoniously knotted the seventeen lead ropes to a bar across the gate.

"See that symbol that appears in the braiding pattern of the ropes when they are knotted this way?" said Ellra, gesturing to the gate.

Several people nodded and murmured confirmation.

"That is a sacred symbol that will protect the cappa from harm and ensure the gate can only be opened by those with pure intentions."

Everyone smiled and chuckled at the knowledge.

Ellra lifted up her tunic slightly to reveal a braided belt around her hips. Several braided strands met just below her navel and were knotted to reveal a bright violet symbol that slightly resembled the ones on the lead ropes.

"See? This one is similar. It protects my body from harm."

It was almost an hour Ellra remained there in front of the cappa enclosure, sharing her knowledge with those remaining. As the sun dipped down to the tops of the tallest hills, they all dispersed to finish their day's work before the evening meal was served, leaving Ellra to acquaint herself with the cappa paddock.


	2. Introductions

Ilya, the tiny woman who was so proud to have contributed to its construction, had explained that the paddock was over 25 acres in area. Perennial and evergreen trees as well as those that bore edible fruit were inside, providing shade, protection, and seasonal food to the animals. In the middle of the enclosure was a large, deep pond, which would provide the herd with plenty of water. A small structure had been built from several large blocks taken from the nearby ruins, giving the animals shelter from the winter and cover from passing craft.

Ellra wandered to the closest corner of the paddock, studying its construction and reinforcement. Considering most cappa pens at home were made from wood and reeds, she was beyond impressed. She looked forward to learning how to operate her security system.

She was a few meters off the beaten path, following the fence around, so she didn't immediately hear the voice calling her. When she heard it, she thought it was perhaps Condo, the foreman with the booming voice because the caller was so darn _loud_.

"Coming, Condo!" she called, trotting back around the enclosure's first corner and out of the thicker trees. "Wait for me, please! Oh!" Ellra cried out, coming to a sudden halt when she saw who was calling her.

It was the handsome commander.

"Commander..." she said, attempting a military salute, but it just looked awkward.

He chuckled, his dark eyes twinkling. "It's Poe," he said, surprising her by how soft his voice now was. "Commander _Poe Dameron_ ," he added, emphasizing the name over the rank.

"Commander Poe," said Ellra, repeating her awkward salute.

"That's not... You don't have to... You're not military," he stammered, waving his hands in a stifling motion. "Never mind," he added, briefly rubbing his brow in amused frustration. "The general would like to speak with you."

Ellra smiled, remembering what General Organa had said earlier. She had positive feelings about the general and looked forward to interacting with her more.

"Yes, sir. I am excited to speak with her again!" said Ellra, immediately reverting to her formal speech in the commander’s presence.

"Nope. You cut that 'sir' shit out right now," he said, making a cutting motion under his chin. "Nope, nuh-uh..."

Ellra recognized the humor in his voice and smiled and nodded as she fell in step beside him. Of course she had to take two steps for each of his.

The walk wasn't that long, but after spending around two hours educating others about her world, she was a little exhausted, and the gentle barrage of questions Commander Poe Dameron kept up nearly wiped her out. He knew enough about the animals, but not about the strange little young woman in native clothes and he didn't hesitate to make that clear.

"... So when the opportunity arrived to volunteer to essentially join the Resistance, I leapt at it. I could combine my lifetime of knowledge of cappa care with my thirst for adventure," said Ellra, panting slightly as they arrived before a large door in the hillside near the hangar, darkness engulfing the valley.

The commander stopped to look at her as she caught her breath. The light from a pole above them made her hair shimmer and small insects buzzed around her curls, giving her an otherworldly look. She wiped a bead of sweat from above her eye.

"What is it?" she asked, a bit uncomfortable beneath the man's curious, steady gaze.

"You're interesting," he said matter-of-factly, as if there could be no other answer.

Ellra screwed up her face for the first time since she had arrived. His earnestness was both comforting and strange. She mumbled, "Th-thank you?"

"You're welcome," said the commander, nodding sharply and turning away.

Chewing on her lip, Ellra shrugged and followed him inside the base.

The base wasn't the most massive as hidden bases went, but it was bigger than anything that Ellra had ever seen. Beneath the hills were echoing hangars full of spacecraft and mechanics and busy droids, beneath those was a large and loud space where fighters and speeders were constantly being repaired and upgraded. Deeper under the hills were the barracks and commissary, and deepest of all, safe from atmospheric bombing runs, was the command center. A handful of winding corridors connected the mechanical spaces with the social spaces and the surface.

People in various states of uniform met Ellra and Commander Dameron as they went deeper under the hills.  He nodded or saluted at a few of them and some addressed him by name. Everyone spared a polite nod or curious glance at her but didn't address her.

Ellra caught a glimpse into many of the spaces as she went down the corridors. She saw a service droid shoving a new hyperdrive into the back of one of the X-wings. She saw the first people lining up for dinner in the commissary. She peeked down the corridor that led to sick bay and saw a nurse carrying a box.

Shortly, Commander Dameron and Ellra arrived at a small area near the door that led to the command center. She felt, though she could not see, the buzzing in the hive behind the door. There was a sense of urgency in the air; she even thought she could _smell_ the determination radiating out of the people in the next room.

General Organa stood in the room next to a wall of servers, the blonde young woman at her side. They both wore their olive Resistance uniforms, but the general’s astounding hairstyle remained. The machines behind them hummed warmly. Karak stood nearby, his arms folded into the sleeves of his robe.

“General,” said Ellra, quickly bowing her head.

“Oh, sure,” said the commander, startling Ellra, “General gets a bow and all I get’s that lousy salute?”

Ellra gasped, looking back at Commander Dameron in shock. He started laughing at his own joke and winked at the general.

“He’s teasing you, Ellra,” said General Organa, chuckling softly. “You’ll have to get used to it because he drives _everyone_ around here crazy, but… he’s indispensible. And he doesn’t bite.”

Ellra glanced back one more time and suspected that the commander had to restrain himself from adding, “Unless you want me to,” for which she was grateful. She wasn’t sure she was ready for that type of humor from someone she had known so shortly.

“Ellra, I’d like to introduce Operations Controller Kaydel Ko Connix,” said General Organa, gesturing to the young woman beside her.

Controller Connix’s blonde hair was done up in two small buns on top of her head, but several strands hung loose, suggesting the officer was stressed. She had several datapads stacked in her arms, but she managed to get a free hand with which to shake Ellra’s. She was very close in age to Ellra. Her brown eyes gleamed with passionate determination and her gentle smile belied something fierce Ellra could sense.

“Controller,” said Ellra, nodding politely.

“Connix will be your liaison, as it were; your contact within my office,” said the general. “You won’t be affiliated with military command in any way – an independent contractor, if you will. You report directly to me through Connix and Dameron. You do what you know how to do and if you need any help, reach one of these two and we’ll be at your disposal.”

The general went on to explain that the cappa project was really a morale experiment. Ellra hadn’t been foolish enough to think that the Resistance actually _needed_ livestock, but she understood the importance of morale, and frankly, of fresh milk, and was excited to help. She got the feeling that everyone present expected her to eventually become an official part of the Resistance in time.

Connix showed Ellra the security program on her datapad and explained how to use it. The device would allow Ellra to communicate with Connix and Dameron, and by proxy, the general; it also had basic information about the base and its residents so that she could familiarize herself with everything quickly.

Ellra was thrilled to have so much power and information right in the palms of her hand and she looked forward to learning everything she could.

 “You’re free to ask anyone on base how to get around if you aren’t certain,” said Controller Connix. “You’ll find everyone’s friendly and polite.”

“I have had a taste,” said Ellra, smiling softly, her eyes warm. “They are all really lovely.”

“The most important thing to remember is than in the event of an attack, an evacuation, or another emergency situation, you will be expected to follow the orders of command, for your safety and that of others. And your help may be utilized as if you were enlisted. Do you understand?” said Connix, looking very serious.

Ellra nodded solemnly and offered her awful salute.

“Yes, ma’am. I am fully prepared to serve to the best of my abilities.”

“Ellra,” said General Organa, “this is going to be your home for a while. I want you to know that as long as you don’t interfere with operations, you’re welcome to interact with professionals around the base and learn from them in your free time. We want you to feel safe and at home here.”

Ellra smiled and nodded.

“Thank you, ma’am. I am excited to be a part of this.”

Karak stepped forward and took Ellra’s hands in his.

“I’m so proud of you,” he said softly. “Your father is proud of you. We’re all _so_ proud of you.”

Ellra smiled and her eyes misted.

“I am proud of me too,” she said, shaking her head so some of her curls fell away from her face. “I am going to miss you.”

“Not as much as we all will miss the sunshine of your smile and the radiant kindness in your heart. The gentlest spirit of the village has left us to help a noble cause. Perhaps you are also the bravest spirit, too.”

At those last words, all control Ellra had over emotions was destroyed and she broke down to gentle sobs. She threw her arms around Karak’s neck and squeezed him tightly. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“I shall be leaving tonight. Pria has to have the shuttle back by daybreak on P’el,” he explained. “We shall communicate by holo in the village, alright?”

She nodded sadly.

“I shall return in a year to check on your wellbeing, alright, Ellra?”

“I cannot wait! _Eisha-tel_. _Posa alo to_.”

“ _Eisha-tel_. _Emra vo orif tel_ ,” said Karak softly. “And always do what the spirits whisper in your heart.”

“Never forget the voices of those gone,” added Ellra, wiping her eyes.

When the two had said their goodbyes, General Organa returned to command and Karak went to prepare for his trip home. Controller Connix escorted Ellra and Dameron to Ellra’s new quarters. She explained a little bit about the space, even though that was pretty self-explanatory, and how to secure her room.

Ellra nodded along as she wiped the last of the tears from her face with the hem of her tunic.

When that was finished, it was time for the evening meal and Commander Dameron volunteered to escort Ellra to the commissary, leaving Connix to return to command.

“Is… Is everyone going to be there?” Ellra asked the commander.

He looked down at her and nodded.

“Pretty much. But like the general said, we don’t bite.”

She smiled, oddly comforted by the commander’s presence.

They entered the dining room and Ellra again felt small. Two hundred people of all races, ages, and genders were seated, eating, or standing in line for food. Some stood against the walls with cups of caf or dessert, talking with each other. Some sat on crates stacked at the end of the food line. Droids, who clearly were not there to eat, also socialized throughout the room. Many of the tables held separate groups: the medical technicians were in white and brown, laughing loudly by the wall; the mechanics, in dark olive, all sat together in the middle, their heads hunched together.

When she stepped in, Ellra paused to look around and take it all in. Even though only a few looked up at her, she felt very exposed. Almost everyone was in uniform, the rest in civvies. She was the only one in a pink tunic adorned with brightly colored accents. Her hair felt unnaturally big; her thick, silvery curls hung around her like a protective wall. Most of the other women had their hair pulled back. An unfamiliar and unpleasant sensation crept up her body.

“I look weird,” she whispered to herself.

“The hell you do,” said Commander Dameron.

She jumped, not realizing he could hear her.

“You haven’t seen Mos Espa on Boonta Eve.”

Ellra looked up to see he was smiling reassuringly down at her.

“I’ve never eaten foreign food,” she said pathetically as he led her to the end of the line.

“This is your first time away from home, huh?” asked the commander, leaning against the wall, watching the servers scoop food onto the trays.

“I am sorry,” said Ellra, feeling a wave of shame.

“Why would you be sorry? You’re brave as hell.”

Her eyes snapped up to Commander Dameron’s and she noticed what a rich, dark brown they were. They were fixed on her, that same curiosity from earlier glinting again. The feeling she got under that gaze was the strangest mix of comfort and anticipation.

“Brave?” she repeated simply, just not seeing what he meant.

He grinned.

“You left everything you’ve ever known behind to come here and fight for a noble cause. It’s admirable,” he said, nodded with solemn certainty. “We’re all strangers to you and you came here to help us. Everyone knows. They’re all grateful.”

“That is ridiculous,” said Ellra, ducking her head so a curtain of curls fell between her and the commander. She struggled with embarrassment and pride and whatever one calls that feeling when they know someone else is going to be disappointed in them eventually. “Everyone here did the same thing. They all gave up their lives to come fight. I am only one of many. _Many_.”

Commander Dameron let out a curious bark of a laugh.

“Not me!” he said, his eyes bright.

“What?”

“This is all I’ve ever known,” he said, gesturing widely. “In some ways, at least. I was born in the Rebellion!”

“Born in…?” repeated Ellra, blinking slowly.

“I was two when my parents fought in the Battle of Endor.”

“Oh, spirits!” Ellra cried, covering her mouth with her fingertips. “ _Endor_?” she repeated in a solemn whisper as it sank in.

The commander chuckled at her surprise as they arrived at the stacks of compartmented trays.

“We are so different,” she said softly to herself, sliding a tray in front of her.

“Hey. Do you believe in this?” asked Commander Dameron, gesturing to the room at large. “In the Resistance and what we stand for? Do you want to see the end of the First Order?”

“Absolutely,” said Ellra, softly, almost in a whisper, as she stared into nothing. “With everything in my being.”

Perhaps it was a little dramatic to say out loud. But it was true. She knew in her heart that she was willing to die for the cause, even though she was just a cappa herder.

The commander gently bumped his shoulder into Ellra’s. She met his eye.

“Then we’re all the same,” he said softly, solemnly, flicking his eyes away from hers for a fraction of a second to indicate the entire room.

She smiled at the commander, glancing around the room once, and nodded. Unknowingly, she had entered a sacred bond with hundreds of people, complete strangers. But in the cause, they were family. Ellra felt her heart could burst.

The commander showed Ellra what foods to choose – savory vegetables, sweet fruits, salty preserved meats, herby teas, bubbling brews.

He took her to one of the last empty tables and left her for a moment to go find some of his closest friends to introduce to her.

Alone for a moment, Ellra examined her food and the people around her. She tasted the vividly orange fruit on her plate and thought it tasted familiar. As she wallowed a chewy green vegetable in her mouth, something hard gently nudged her booted foot.

“Hm?”

She looked around and then down and saw a strange droid, not a variety she had seen before. It was spherical with a rotating half-sphere head, painted bright orange on white with silvery trim. It beeped and whistled at her, rotating its shiny black eye. It was a little beat up, but she instantly felt it was well-cared for. Loved even.

“I am sorry, little friend,” said Ellra, reluctantly swallowing the vegetables. “I do not speak your language.”

It beeped again and nudged her leg. She smiled and gently petted its rotating head. It released a soothing whistle.

“I don’t speak Cute Little Robot,” she said, “but I understand your tone.”

It beeped simply then whistled sweetly.

“I’m Ellra,” she said. “I cannot wait to learn your name.”

_Beep-beep wheet_.

“Beep-Beep Weet?” she repeated. “Can I call you ‘Beep-Beep’ until I learn your name?”

It booped softly.

“Nice to meet you, Beep-Beep,” said Ellra, patting its round body. “You’re welcome to keep me company while I eat my dinner.”

It repeated the sweet whistle from earlier.

As she returned to her meal, the little droid rotated on the spot, whistling and beeping softly as if it were telling her stories. It rolled in circles on the ground by her leg and occasionally looked up at her and tooted to make sure she was paying attention. She wished with all her heart she could understand what it was trying to tell her. She believed it was something amazing.

“Are you tryin’ to steal my girl?” cried a familiar voice.

Commander Dameron stood in front of Ellra’s table with his hands on his hips.

“What?” said Ellra, looking up in confusion.

The little droid spun its head and beeped loudly and defensively at Dameron, who laughed good-naturedly. It then rolled into his leg twice.

“Ow, cut it out, you little shit,” said the commander, gently pushing the droid back with his boot. “I’m joking, buddy!”

“Oh, no,” said a female voice. “BB’s already in love.”

Ellra looked up to see a young woman with a big cup of hot tea smirking at the altercation before her. She was pretty and sweet looking. Her shiny black hair was pulled back in a simple plait and she wore her civvies.

Commander Dameron straightened and gestured to the woman.

“Ellra, this is Lieutenant Jessika Pava.”

Ellra rose and saluted awkwardly. Pava snickered.

“Naw, cut that out. We’re all grunts here,” she said, offering Ellra a hand to shake.

“Oh, I didn’t think…”

Suddenly, the table was surrounded by people she hadn’t yet seen. Including Pava, there were five humans, a tall man with green skin and red eyes, and two shorter men with brown skin and barbs at the corners of their mouths.

Accompanied by Dameron’s boisterous commentary, Ellra was soon introduced to this group of pilots and mechanics: Karé Kun, Bastian, L’ulo L’ampar, Iolo Aran, Ello Asty, Oddy Muva, and Snap Wexley.

Ellra’s head spun as she tried to absorb all the new information: names, faces, dates, battles, pilot-speak, whatever sounds Beep-Beep kept making over the racket. It was overwhelming.

A particularly loud whistle interrupted the conversation and everyone looked down at the oscillating droid, a blur of orange and white. It beeped something important to Commander Dameron and he laughed.

“Oh, I forgot to introduce you two properly. Ellra, this is my best pal in the entire universe, BB-8! BB, my new friend, Ellra.”

BB-8 whistled warmly and bumped Ellra’s leg affectionately.

“BB?” she repeated. “I was close! I should have known you belonged to Commander Poe!”

“Oh, he doesn’t belong to me,” corrected the commander.

BB-8’s head rolled back on its little body to look up at its master, whistling in devastation.

Dameron looked down at BB-8 and smiled. “I belong to him!”

As Ellra laughed, BB-8 rolled around in elated circles.

“Do you understand Binary?” asked Wexley, leaning across the table.

His smile was kind.

“Not a beep of it,” said Ellra, smiling, pulling a large lock of curls out of her face. “I’m going on tone and body language.”

The pilot across from her laughed.

“You’ll pick it up fast. BB is very vocal.”

“He never shuts up,” said Bastian, laughing and downing the last bite of his dessert cup.

His body jerked slightly and everyone at the table could tell BB-8 had just rolled into his leg. The party laughed.

“Just like his daddy!” said Pava, laughing and clapping Dameron on the back.

The group surrounding Ellra shifted and evolved as people came and went. A pilot would leave and his seat would be taken by a technician; a mechanic would go to get a drink refill and two commandos would lean into the empty space and loudly introduce themselves. This didn’t improve the pleasant but powerful whirlwind in her head.

Despite being overwhelmed, Ellra suddenly found herself feeling the most at home she had so far on this adventure. These people didn’t know her, but they were sharing a meal with her, laughing and sharing stories and scars. Commander Dameron, her first friend here, had welcomed her into his big, weird family, and they were all now making her feel like it.

As she relaxed, she let her vocal and body language relax accordingly. She had been keeping herself in tight check as she met her new friends and acquaintances, but now she spoke more familiarly with everyone and didn’t hesitate to brush arms or shoulders with her companions.

The pilots had lots of questions. Almost as many questions as they had stories to tell. They loved the way she referred to Dameron as “Commander Poe.”

“It’s cute as can be,” said Pava, laughing softly. “I may start using it!”

“You’ve never called me anything but ‘Poe’!” laughed Dameron.

“Oh, no!” yelled Ellra.

“What?” several people at the table shouted back.

“I just realized how I screwed up your name!”

Dameron laughed.

“Took you a while,” he said, chuckling.

Ellra hid her face in her arms on the table.

“It’s ‘Commander _Dameron_ ,’ right?” she asked loudly from her elbows.

“Honey, when you get up from this table, you’re calling us all by our given names!” shouted Kun, patting Ellra’s arm.

“Really?” asked Ellra softly, raising her head and looking around.

“Snap!” said Wexley, holding his hand out.

“Karé!”

“Ello!”

“Jessika!”

“L’ulo!”

Commander Dameron looked at the arms outstretched across the table. Ellra was staring blankly at them and he smirked at her bemusement. He placed his hand on top and said, “Poe!”

“Ellra!” she eventually yelled, throwing her arms on top of everyone else’s.

The group laughed and the familiarization was officially complete…

Not quite.

The table thumped as a certain droid banged into it.

“BB!” yelled Ellra, laughing.

A clear _wheeeeeee_ sounded from under the table.

…And the familiarization was complete.

Conversation resumed. Laughter echoed in the gradually emptying dining room. Over the next hour, several people associated with various branches of the Resistance stopped by and were introduced to the newcomer, who greeted everyone kindly and with a smile.

Karak had said that smile was sunshine. Poe Dameron seemed to notice that he was right. The commander watched Ellra from the corner of his eye the entire night, his eyes sparkling whenever she laughed or smiled.

When the conversation lulled again, Poe asked Ellra, “Basic is not your first language, is it?”

Ellra smiled and shook her head, the cloud of curls dancing.

“ _Kor ke_. _Isa bela ko_.”

“You don’t say,” he replied, giving her his signature grin.

“It’s Ishta, my people’s tongue,” she said, laughing. “I thought my Basic was great. What gave it away?”

Poe smiled down at the empty cup in his hand.

“The way you say ‘Poe,’” he said.

“Poe?” she repeated.

Ellra could be heard repeating the word under her breath for a moment.

“He’s right,” said Snap. “You say the ‘oh’ sound kind of different. Say ‘flow.’”

“Flow,” said Ellra, feeling her cheeks get hot for the first time over dinner.

“Say ‘over,’” said Karé.

“Over.”

“See?” said Poe. “Say ‘Poe.’”

“Now you’re all mocking me,” Ellra deadpanned.

“They’re just curious,” said L’ulo gently.

“Yeah,” said Poe. “I’ve been around the galaxy and no one’s said my name like that. It’s interesting.”

Ellra picked up something in the commander’s tone that made the back of her neck prickle.

“We’re extremely isolated,” she explained, scratching the place that prickled. “Our pronunciation is based on an ancient language.”

“I think it’s pretty,” said Jessika, draining her last drop of tea. “ _Pohhh_ …” she mumbled to herself, trying to emulate Ellra’s accent. “ _Pohhhh_ …”

It was late. The group dispersed. Jessika, Poe, and BB-8 remained to escort Ellra to her quarters. She walked slowly between the two humans as the little droid rolled cheerfully in front of them.

Next to the command center, the barracks was the deepest part of the base, safe from ground-level attacks. Ellra’s room was in the same level as the enlisted. She had the smallest compartment in the whole base, right at the corner of a row, near the lift.

Connix had let her look around it earlier. It was just a small work station, a bunk with a bookshelf at the head for personal items, and a refresher. Near the head of the bed, built into the wall was a compact charging station for small droids and astros. Two small crates of Ellra’s personal belongings were waiting by the workstation to be unpacked.

Ellra was tired. She looked forward to slipping into her new bed and sleeping. Space travel was exhausting.

“Hey, BB-8,” said Poe when they stopped outside Ellra’s door.

The little droid rolled over to Poe and beeped curiously.

“What if Ellra gets lonely on her first night here? Shouldn’t you keep her company?”

BB-8 beeped an eager confirmation and Ellra broke into a grin.

“A spy?” she said softly, daring to flick her eyes up to Poe’s before looking back at the little droid.

BB-8 beeped sweetly and she understood. He would be her confidante as much as he was Poe’s.

“Alright then,” she said, keying in the passcode Connix had showed her earlier. “Happy to have you, little friend.”

BB-8 beeped and whistled his goodnight to Poe and rolled inside. Ellra turned to her two companions and thanked them for their help and company and bid them good night. Jessika shook her hand and Poe seemed uncertain if he should shake her hand or hug her, so he settled for an awkward kiss on the back of her hand, which left Ellra giggling helplessly.

She stepped into her quarters and locked the door. Through the door behind her, she heard Jessika hiss, “You kissed her _hand_?”

“She thought it was sweet,” whispered Poe defensively.

“You’re pathetic,” said Jessika, unable to stifle her laughter.

BB-8 was rolling around inside the room, examining it. He whistled and booped softly to himself. Ellra couldn’t stop the smile that split her face.

“Tomorrow, I’ll plug you into my datapad and we’ll have a real conversation,” she said.

BB-8 rolled over to her and beeped cheerfully and softly.

Ellra needed to unpack, check the security feeds, shower, change, and pull down the bed. But she didn’t have energy for all that. She confirmed that the animals were safe, milling about quietly in the dark, and crashed into her bed, clothes and boots still on.

The last thing she remembered was rolling to her side to lay her arm across BB-8’s head.

“Good night, little friend,” she whispered.

_Boop_ - _bee_.


	3. Mornings of Sorts

The display on the shelf at the head of the bed read 04:27.

Ellra sighed and sat up.

“Too early,” she mumbled.

BB-8 was dark and silent, sitting in the charging station. A yellow charging indicator glowed near his eye.

She got up and checked the paddock monitors. Nothing unusual. The cappa seemed to have taken to their new pen quickly. Most of them were asleep.

“I have no idea what to do,” Ellra whispered to the room.

She shook off her sleep, grabbed her data pad, and left the room, leaving BB-8 to charge in peace.

There were more people in the corridors than she had anticipated, but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense that the base never really slept. Medical technicians, data technicians, maintenance – they scurried back and forth on important work, even at five in the morning. Several of them smiled and nodded at Ellra as they passed. She almost felt out of place.

She found her way outside eventually. The sky was a violet-black with a sliver of silver peeking over the hilltops. The main hangar was already open. Two Y-wings were being brought outside and several service droids were performing last-minute checks. Two pilots in their orange jumpsuits were holding their helmets and talking. A couple of officers followed them out, discussing plans on their datapads.

“M-may I watch you take off?” asked Ellra, projecting her voice across the valley.

The two pilots stopped and turned. They laughed good-naturedly and nodded, motioning Ellra over.

“You’re the animal keeper,” said the first pilot, an older woman with very short hair.

Ellra nodded before saluting the two pilots. They returned the gesture professionally.

“You haven’t seen a fighter take off?” asked the first pilot.

“Never. The shuttle I rode here was the first spacecraft I saw up close.”

The second pilot had a big silvery, whiskered face. He didn’t seem capable of speaking Basic. He appeared to smile at Ellra. She returned the smile.

The second pilot said something wet and floppy.

The first pilot chuckled and said, “Kip says you’re in for a treat.”

“Please stand back,” said one of the officers. “If you’re going to watch, step over there.”

Ellra saluted everyone present and headed over to the big grey crate the officer had indicated. She climbed up on it to sit and watch. The pilots donned their helmets and entered their respective craft.

The Y-wings were massive and lumbering and looked much older than Ellra herself. Something told her that the older female pilot had flown that fighter during the Rebellion. Their engines made a whine that was both low and high, vibrating a part of Ellra’s ears she wasn’t used to feeling stimulated. She watched the rotating domes of the two astromech droids behind the cockpits. The engines kicked up a thin cloud of dirty yellow dust from the tarmac.

The hum of the engines vibrated in the hollow of Ellra’s chest, resonating in her heart and her blood. She couldn’t pinpoint the feeling reeling through her from her feet up to her head and back down, over and over. Her hands trembled slightly as she clutched her datapad to her chest. Her jaw clenched as something tickled the back of her neck and inside her throat.

As the two craft turned in the same direction and slowly lifted off the ground, Ellra rose to her feet without realizing it. She could see the two pilots’ faces in her mind’s eye. She could feel the controls under her hands. Feel the ground fall beneath her. Taste the cold atmosphere.

Two figures stood in the door of the hangar, one tall and one very short, watching the way Ellra watched the takeoff.

Ellra couldn’t take her eyes off the Y-wings as they rose into the air, the whine becoming unbearable, seemingly louder every second. In a few moments, they were out of sight, but her eyes were fixed on the point in the graying sky where they had disappeared, the memory of the engines’ sound loud in her ear.

“Ell?” said a soft voice as a hand gently took her arm.

She shook off the trance and looked around to see Poe and BB-8, looking at her with concern. Poe’s hand held her upper arm to steady her. There were pink marks in her forearms from clutching the datapad so tight.

“You ok?”

 _Boop_?

“I…” She blinked. “I don’t…”

Ellra shook her head gently. It was fuzzy.

“You’re shaking,” said Poe softly, putting his other hand on her other arm. “Blink your eyes. You haven’t blinked in like five minutes.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, not realizing until that second how dry they were.

Poe chuckled softly. “I’ve never seen that before. You hyper transfixed yourself on the fighters.”

“I what?”

BB-8 beeped and whistled.

“You went into a trance watching the Y-wings take off,” said Poe, looking over his shoulder at the sky.

“I… I am so sorry,” whispered Ellra, backing away from Poe slowly, her bottom hitting the crate behind her. “I have never… I didn’t know…”

“You’re gonna make one helluva pilot someday,” he whispered in awe.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, not catching what he said.

“BB-8 woke me up. Said you disappeared and he was worried. He asked me to help find you.”

She smiled down at the little droid who whistled softly.

“Thank you, little friend,” she said, smiling.

He beeped back.

It took a moment for Ellra to realize Poe still had hands on her shoulders. She was steadier now and her head was clear. There was no reason for him to keep doing that, especially considering the way his touch was making her feel.

“I am alright, Poe,” she said softly. “I am sorry I worried you. I just…” Ellra trailed off to look back up at the sky. “I have never seen anything like it.”

Poe was examining her eyes and she was grateful to several of her curls that gave her some privacy.

“I… I have work to do,” she said. “See you later?”

Poe finally let his hands drop back to his sides. He nodded and stepped back so she could walk by.

She waved absently at BB-8 and left, gently shaking her head, trying to figure out what happened. Why could she remember the view from the Y-wing’s cockpit in her mind’s eye? Why did she feel imprints in her palms as if she’d had a death grip on a flight stick?

She looked down at her hand. A visible grip pattern was imprinted on the fleshy base of her thumb and it didn’t match the datapad.

“Probably shouldn’t hold it so tight,” she whispered to herself absently.

A low, affectionate rumble interrupted Ellra’s thoughts. She found herself standing in front of the cappa paddock’s gate, a single cow greeting her with soft lows, _Hold what so tight?_ echoing in the back of her mind.

She soon forgot the incident and went about her business caring for the cappa.

All seventeen were accounted for. They appeared to have enjoyed their first night on D’Qar. They made friendly noises to Ellra as she approached each of them to stroke their muzzles.

She made rounds inside and outside of the paddock, familiarizing herself with the layout and the security fence, examining her datapad every little bit to make sure she understood everything. She occasionally tested the integrity of the fence herself by climbing, kicking, and pushing it in places she thought might be weak. This was all routine for a new pen.

It was very late in the morning when a familiar small voice hailed Ellra as she punched some notes into her pad.

“Ilya!” she said joyfully, looking up at the young woman.

Ilya was as petite as a human being could be. She wore mechanic’s overalls (a size too big) but an officer’s badge – lieutenant, Ellra noticed. A belt hung at her narrow hips, heavy with tools and a small datapad; the whole thing looked like it doubled her body weight. She had violently, vividly red hair, chopped coarsely into a wavy mane around her face. When the sun peeped from behind a cloud, it looked like her head was on fire. Her hands were tiny but rough and calloused from hard work; her nails had chipped black polish on them.

“We missed you at breakfast. Wanted to make sure you were doin’ okay. Yeah?” she said, resting her hands on her toolbelt.

“Sorry. I didn’t sleep well, so I had an early start. I got busy and totally forgot about eating,” said Ellra, closing the screen. “I guess I should go have a big early lunch. I didn’t hate all the food last night.”

Ilya chuckled loudly, her laugh the biggest thing about her.

“I have to get to work. We’re trying to get a new barracks installed in the west hill as we’re expecting about seventy-five new recruits next month.”

“Really?” said Ellra. “I didn’t realize it all worked so fast.”

“You’d be surprised,” said Ilya, pulling a rainbow-dyed bandana from her pocket and tying it around her forehead, pulling the messy hair away from her face. “Glad we got to chat. Maybe see you at dinner?”

“Absolutely, _lieutenant_ ,” said Ellra, smiling and saluting, almost properly this time.

It was close to midday, so Ellra finished up what she was doing in order to head down to the commissary.

It was already getting crowded and this was Ellra’s first time here alone. She only felt a bit intimidated. Lunch wasn’t quite as rowdy as dinner since everyone still had work to do. It moved more efficiently too.

She hopped in the rapidly moving line and grabbed her tray. Without someone to tell her what everything was, she just picked the most appetizing-looking food available, thinking there were far riskier moves. As hungry as she was, it almost didn’t matter. Graciously, the pale green soup was delicious and mild and fresh.

As she ate, Ellra looked around for friendly faces. She saw Controller Connix eating with a couple of other young officers, deep in an important looking conversation. She saw a pilot from Red Squadron that Poe had introduced her to the night before, but he looked like he was in a bad mood. She saw people she had passed in corridors but they didn’t notice her looking at them. She took a deep breath and told herself that she couldn’t always sit with “the cool kids,” and she would have to learn to be ok alone.

“I need to get a droid,” she mumbled to herself resignedly.

Despite the casual loneliness, Ellra’s first day on base was pleasant and uneventful. She couldn’t really ask for a better outcome, considering how strange her situation was. After lunch, she returned to the paddock and made some notes about how the animals behaved.

She began to realize she didn’t have enough work to do in caring for the animals. They only needed to be checked a couple of times a day and milked once a week. She would have to volunteer for other work on base to earn her keep.

She received a note on her datapad, her first one from another person. It was from Ilya.

 _Hey,_ it read. _Ilya here. Had a structural collapse in the bottom level. No injuries – all safe. But had to bring in reinforcements so as not to further compromise the project. Unable to meet for dinner. Apologies. Raincheck?_

Ellra felt a pang of disappointment at the thought of having to eat another meal alone, but also a thrill of friendly affection at being worthy of an apology note. She quickly wrote back that that was fine and she was glad everyone was safe. She looked forward to dinner another time.

“I have friends,” she whispered to herself, smiling.

Another pleasant surprise found her eating dinner that evening with Poe and Oddy, a mechanic. They were deeply engaged in a conversation about mechanics and engineering, something so in-depth Ellra couldn’t pick out half the words. It was like they were speaking another language. But that didn’t bother her. She was grateful for the company.

She also plugged BB-8 into her datapad and had a very pleasant conversation with him while she ate. She found it sweet and funny that he spoke in broken sentences like a toddler. It almost looked like a data error, but she quickly realized that BB-8 was so excited about everything all the time he simply didn’t have time to speak in complete sentences. Life was too precious to waste time on superfluous nouns.

_BANG! Then Poe fell. Door locked! Slam-slam! Why door? Fuck! Ha ha Poe swear!_

“He does swear!” laughed Ellra through a mouthful of salad. “Why _was_ the door locked?”

_Locked? Funny Jessika too fast. Poe mad. Jessika Karé laughing laughing. Poe laugh. Mad first. Then laugh._

“They all love each other, don’t they?”

_Love! So love! Poe –_

BB-8 tried to roll in an excited circle, but he yanked the cord from the datapad and hit the next table as the pad hit the floor.

Ellra didn’t need a translation for those beeps: “Ow.”

“Sorry, baby,” she said, helping BB-8 right himself.

“What are you doin’ to my droid, Oka?” barked Poe playfully.

“I didn’t do anything, D – Dameron !” barked Ellra right back, retrieving her datapad. “Good thing these are so tough.”

“Yeah, you can’t kill ‘em,” said Oddy, nodding towards the pad.

The two men returned to their conversation and left Ellra to finish her meal and comfort BB-8.

After dinner, she finally got to shower and put on fresh clothes. It took her over an hour to comb out her hair and braid the main part behind her head; the sacred beaded braids around her face stayed in place. She took her time to unpack her belongings. A handful of print books went on the shelf along with a plush cappa made from natural fleece and a knotted reed doll. She only had a few different outfits; she folded them and put them on the shelves beside the work station. Big boots, lighter boots, and flat peasant shoes were tucked under the bed; the lighter boots were her day-to-days, so they stayed in front.

Late that night found Ellra struggling to sleep again. After much tossing and turning, she turned to BB-8 who was watching her with concern.

“The days,” she said simply.

He whistled curiously, cocking his head to the side.

“The length of days is different,” said Ellra, reaching to pet BB-8’s head. “I can’t sleep because I’m not _supposed_ to be.”

He tweeted and whistled in recognition.

 _Doot doo_?

“I have to stay up,” she said, sitting up. “At least for a while.”

BB-8 tweeted simply.

“You can sleep longer if you want, baby,” she said, gesturing to the charging station.

BB-8 looked back and forth between Ellra and the outlet. He whistled resignedly and rolled over to plug in. She waited until his lights were off before leaving.


	4. A New Friend

Days began to run together for Ellra. Being awake for almost twice as long as everyone else, with weird, interspersed sleeping periods in between, made socializing extremely difficult. She only had to check on the animals in person about three times a day; with her datapad strapped to her hip she had instant access to their wellbeing the rest of the time. There weren’t a lot of meal options at 03:00. Even her casual acquaintances missed her cheerful affect at mealtimes.

For some strange reason, her most available friend was the gold-colored protocol droid she had seen with the general on the first day. When the general didn’t need him, he would wander the corridors – “patrolling,” he called it – and make sure everything was running smoothly.

He spotted Ellra struggling with a heavy box of milking equipment in front of the hangar one day and introduced himself. He didn’t help, of course. That wasn’t what he was programmed for.

“Hello, Miss,” he said, walking stiffly beside Ellra as she sweated. “I am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations. How may I be of service to you today?”

“…Could help me carry…” groaned Ellra as sweat ran into her eyes.

“Right away, Miss.”

And he was gone.

She paused for a moment to look around the valley. Nothing.

“Bastard,” she mumbled, a word she had picked up from Ilya.

Ilya called anything that wasn’t helpful “bastard,” be it man, machine, beast, or object. Ellra thought it humorous and picked it up.

When she was about half-way to the paddock, C-3PO reappeared along with a service droid to help carry the box of equipment.

“Oh, so you _did_ hear me,” panted Ellra, straightening as the service droid took most of the burden. “I was afraid you needed a tune-up.”

“Me? A tune-up?” said C-3PO. “Goodness, Madam, I _assure_ you that I am in the finest condition and up to all galactic standards for a protocol droid of my era.”

“What era is that?” said Ellra, snippier than usual out of frustration. “The Clone Wars?”

If it was possible for a droid to huff, C-3PO would have huffed.

“I’ll have you know, Madam – ”

“I’m teasing you, Mister C,” said Ellra, sighing in frustration as she and the service droid set the box on the ground in front of the paddock. “I’m just annoyed.”

She finally got a good look at the protocol droid she was addressing. Up close, he was more banged-up than she had initially thought, but, like BB-8, she had the feeling he was well-cared for.

“Well, the pilots must adore you, Madam,” said C-3PO his head swiveling in indignation. “Particularly that boisterous Poe Dameron.”

“Why do you say that?” asked Ellra, putting her hands on her hips and catching her breath.

“Why, isn’t teasing the primary form of communication for those cocky flypeople? I’m fluent in over six million forms of communication and I still have trouble with that one.”

“I didn’t realize that,” she said thoughtfully. “I will have to try it out. I still have trouble with it, too. I am unfamiliar with so many of these customs I have been exposed to.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, Madam,” said C-3PO, “where are you from?”

Ellra’s body language relaxed. She smiled.

“I am from a small rural village on Tawria. I am Ishta.”

“Oh, I speak Ishta!” said C-3PO triumphantly. “ _Voru ta Ishta mae_? _Com te ka ko_.”

“ _Ishta isa to ye_!” Ellra squealed, unable to contain her elation at meeting someone who could speak to her in her native tongue. “ _Ske es isa eneleka ko_!”

C-3PO’s pronunciation was flawless. Instead of a mechanical being, Ellra felt she was speaking to a distant family member. Of course, C-3PO didn’t know anything about the Ishta’s _culture_ , but just speaking the language made Ellra feel at home again, just for a moment.

Ellra excused the service droid and began setting up the milking equipment as she told C-3PO about her life in her native language. He listened intently, whether he actually wanted to hear it or not. He conversed politely and patiently and filled her in on life on the base.

C-3PO regaled Ellra with some of the adventures he had with R2-D2 and General Organa and Han Solo and Chewbacca and Luke Skywalker in the past. She felt she was watching a vivid historical holodrama as she worked. She could picture the young heroes and the battles and the ships. She could hear Wedge Antilles’ voice in Luke Skywalker’s headset as they destroyed the first Death Star. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she saw Emperor Palpatine plummet to his death.

“You lived history, C-3PO,” said Ellra, pausing her work to stretch and wipe sweat from her face. “You are the documentarian of the modern history of this galaxy.”

“Well, when you put it that way, I do sound rather important,” said C-3PO sitting on a crate and swiping at bugs flying near the exposed wires in his torso.

“Have you considered putting it all down?”

“Documenting everything I can remember?” he said, turning to look at her. “Perhaps that would be wise. I have seen many historically significant moments from a perspective no one else has, not even the princ – excuse me, General Organa.”

“My people have almost no documented history, C-3PO,” said Ellra, screwing a long plastic hose to the milking machine. “Almost everything we know about our ancestors, the history of our village, our language, is passed down orally.” She paused and looked down, unable to keep a hint of fear creeping into her voice. “If something happened to us, no one would ever know we were even here.”

C-3PO stared at her.

“That is a grim assessment, Madam. And if you’ll excuse me for stating in such a way, many would know.”

“Hmm?”

Ellra looked up.

“You have already touched hundreds of lives just by coming here, haven’t you? Made friends, brought joy to others?”

“Yes,” she said, nodding slowly.

“And most everyone knows you are Ishta,” continued C-3PO.

 “Yeah?”

“If you and your people disappeared tomorrow, your absence would be felt.”

“That… Wow, C-3PO. What an incredibly kind thing to say. I’ll never forget what you said. Thank you.”

Ellra walked over and planted a kiss on the side of C-3PO’s cold metal head.

“Oh, my,” he said.

 

Later that day, in her spare time, Ellra sat cross-legged on top of a stack of newly unloaded supply crates, typing updates into the notes she kept about her animals. She wasn’t bored per se, but part of her wanted someone to talk to.

She had been watching the ships taking off, relishing the exciting rumble they caused in her chest (she had yet to have another experience like the one she had her first morning on D’Qar), occasionally chatting with the mechanics and pilots.

She heard someone briskly walking past and looked up. It was Poe, crossing the landing field, and he didn’t look himself: he wore his olive officer’s uniform instead of the signature leather jacket he seemed sewn into, his usually unruly hair was slicked back with product, and his mouth was set in a thin, stern line.

She decided to implement the advice C-3PO had given her earlier. She cleared her throat and spoke as loudly and clearly from her perch as she could.

“You going on a date?”

The commander stopped short and whipped around to see who was addressing him. His eyes finally landed on Ellra above him and his face lit up at the sight.

“What…?” he asked, momentarily uncertain.

Poe glanced down at his clothes for a moment before it dawned on him: “Oh! You’re making fun of me! Good job.” He gave her a thumb’s up.

Ellra beamed down at him, pleased silly with her effort and his response. She returned the gesture.

“Thanks,” she said. “C-3PO suggested it.”

“C…3PO…” said Poe slowly, “gave you advice… on teasing people…?”

She nodded cheerfully.

“Well, I mean, he is an expert in annoying people. I didn’t expect that, though,” said Poe, shaking his head. He added, “I got a meeting with the top brass. Gotta look my best!”

Ellra chuckled. “You do look handsome,” she added emboldened by her successful joke. “I think the phrase is ‘you clean up well’?”

Poe’s cheeky grin turned self-conscious as he looked up at her.

“Not what I was going for, but I’ll sure take it from you, Ell,” he said, managing a wink.

 “Don’t kiss too much ass down there, okay?” Ellra ventured.

“Me? Never. I only kiss pretty faces,” said Poe, winking and blowing a kiss in her direction.

Ellra thought she would faint.


	5. Milk

The next day was the first cappa milking. Ellra half-expected there to be an audience after she had told Ilya. Sure enough, Ilya and Condo and a handful of enlisted stopped by after breakfast to watch. They were slightly disappointed by how boring the task was to watch but were still interested in what Ellra had to say as she worked.

The machine, smaller than an astromech droid, hummed as it created suction in two hoses that led to a twenty liter jug. At the other end of the hoses were soft rubber cups that were held gently to the female cappas’ udders by Ellra, kneeling under their shaggy, low bellies.

“What’s it look like under there?” asked one of the enlisted, fancying himself the funniest guy present.

“A shag carpet with four tits,” said Ellra calmly, surprising everyone with her choice of language.

Ilya’s laugh echoed off the hillsides like a small explosion.

“Laugh, but I couldn’t put it simpler,” explained Ellra, looking over her shoulder at those present. “She has four palm-sized udders down here, each surrounded by thick, warm fur, which protects the tender parts from harm. Sometimes a calf actually has trouble getting its mouth around an udder and we have to cut the hair away to make it easier.”

“Why is this fascinating?” asked another of the soldiers to her companion.

The companion shrugged and said, “I just like animals.”

“When will there be actual calves we can come out and pet?” asked Ilya, playfully rattling the gate.

“Probably in a week, a week and a half,” said Ellra, turning off the machine as the jug was full.

She switched jugs and turned the machine to another cow, this one so tall Ellra could stand to hold the milking cups to her belly. As she worked, Ellra continued explaining about the milk to her audience.

The milk itself was pearly pink, and incredibly thick, almost viscous. To be drunk by people, it needed to be watered down by about 60%. It was incredibly nutritious, and contained an almost unnatural amount of protein. Part of the reason it would be so beneficial to the Resistance members was its versatility: it could be cooked in food, made into desserts, and drunk. It took weeks to spoil unrefrigerated, so it could actually be carried in bottles as energy food. Since most military food was shipped in from across the galaxy, people got tired of preserved meats and canned vegetables. The prospect of rich, fresh puddings and soups made everyone’s mouths water.

“Can I try some?” asked the fascinated soldier.

Ellra chuckled.

“I had a feeling that would come up. Ilya, those cups, please,” she said, gesturing to a box of disposable cups beside the gate.

Several people lined up beside the sleepy cow as Ellra hand-squeezed one big slurp into each cup.

“It’s bitter!” yelled Ilya, making a face.

“You have to dilute it to taste good,” laughed Ellra at the faces around her.

“I like it,” said Condo. “Reminds me of milk from my home!”

“Kind of nutty,” said the fascinated soldier, swirling her cup.

“Here’s the important question,” said her companion. “What kind of cocktails can we make with it?”

Ellra chuckled, returning to her work.

“I promise to show you guys a couple of good drinks if you can bring me old, rich, dark distilled beverages.”

“Corellian whiskey!”

“Moro rum!”

Several people had suggestions and they looked forward to trying the new drinks.

Eight of the cows needed milking that day. Ellra’s audience had completely dispersed by the time lunch was over, leaving her alone with her animals and her thoughts. The work was familiar and she didn’t even notice the day passing.

Instead of going inside to eat, Ellra simply drank a glass of cappa milk for her lunch. It tasted like home, filling her belly with warmth and her heart with a longing to see her family. She was glad no one was around anymore because the tears came faster than she could feel them and there was nothing she could do. She sank to her knees beside the cow she was milking and sobbed quietly into the silky coat. The cow lowed sympathetically, but didn’t offer any other support.

There was no fear. She knew she was safe and surrounded by friends. But the part of her tied to her village, her people, was mourning, missing. She missed her father’s face, her cousin’s obnoxious laugh, the sound of the merchants’ wagons winding down the road in the middle of the night. She missed the smell of the sand as the sun rose over it in the summer. She missed the taste of wild berries plucked from the vine while out with her herd.

She let out a small sob and nuzzled her face deeper into the cappa’s coat. Her heart hurt.

“You suck it straight out of the titties?” called a familiar voice, incredulous and shaking with laughter.

Ellra snorted through her tears and quickly grabbed a dirty rag to wipe her face. She looked up to see Poe casually leaning on the gate, a self-satisfied grin on his face but concern in his eyes. BB-8 beeped hello at his feet.

“Homesick,” Ellra said softly, answering Poe’s unasked question.

She rose and met him at the gate, wiping the last smudge of tears from her cheek.

“There’s milk too,” said Poe softly, pointing to her cheek. “Probably from drinking at the source.”

Ellra let herself laugh, wiping at her face with her sleeve. The friendly laughter felt good in her chest. It pushed at the homesickness gently, dully.

“Glad to see familiar faces,” she said, nodding to Poe and BB-8.

BB-8 booped sweetly and tapped the gate with his body. Ellra reached through and softly stroked his little round head.

“I saved you some milk,” said Ellra, handing a paper cup to Poe.

He looked surprised for just a second, before accepting and drinking deeply. He was unable to stop the face he made. Fortunately, he managed not to spit.

“You hate it,” laughed Ellra.

“It tastes like bitter roots,” he said, smacking his lips disappointedly.

“But it makes the best ice cream.”

“If you say so,” he chuckled, adding his empty cup to the stack by the gate. “Thanks for, you know, for thinking of me,” he said, offering Ellra the gentlest smile he was capable of. “Are you finished working?”

Ellra looked around the paddock behind her. A childish, innocent part of her thought about calling it a day and following Poe wherever he wanted to go. She smiled at the thought. She wasn’t sure what was coming over her.

“I have two more cows to milk,” she finally said, offering him a look of mixed regret and insinuation. “Maybe I’ll see you at dinner.”

“You absolutely will,” he said, flashing her a blinding smile.

BB-8 let out a curious series of soft beeps and whistles that made Ellra wonder if he was saying something suggestive. Poe’s eyes flashed down to his little companion and he bit his lip, apparently trying not to laugh.

Ellra didn’t mind. Part of her wanted to say something suggestive too.

“I won’t even ask,” she said, turning back to her work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun writing this part.  
> Poe using a naughty word may be a little out of character, but I couldn't think of a better word for him to use, and I didn't want to delete the joke; I thought it was too funny.


	6. Stars

C-3PO, Poe, and Ilya were the social landmarks that kept Ellra’s days from blurring together completely. A conversation with the protocol droid here, a lunch with a friend there, separated the monotony of caring for the animals and not much else.

Well, those and the almost weekly holo conversations she had with the people of her village. They would pass around an outdated datapad and fill Ellra in on what she was missing. She would tell them about her new friends, how the animals were doing, the missions the Resistance fighters had told her about, and life on base.

“That cloudy atmosphere is not good for you,” her father said. “You get paler by the day. One day your skin shall be as pearly white as that of an old Coruscant socialite.”

“I still see sun a few hours a day, Father,” said Ellra, smiling. “I’ll never be pale. I like the clouds sometimes. They make it easier to see when I work.”

“You are getting fat!” cried her cousin, Marcha, the second week.

“I am not! You just forgot what pretty looked like without me around!”

The pair dissolved into sisterly laughter.

Ellra missed her people, but she also loved her new home. It was a strange dichotomy in her heart, but she did her best to find balance.

 

One day, Poe and a few of the other more experienced pilots took a selection of the newer pilots out for atmospheric maneuvers.

This was Ellra’s first time seeing X-wings, Y-wings, and A-wings in flight together. When her morning chores were completed, she excitedly climbed a hill not far from the main hangar and lay back in the grass to watch.

Sometimes, the starfighters all flew in mixed formations, the X-wings running a blocking line in front of a group of Y-wings; other times, the ships flew in formation by class. The X-wings were fast, light, maneuverable. The Y-wings were the opposite: heavy and slow, but they made up for it in shields and firepower.

The shining star of the entire fleet was one particular X-wing that was painted differently than the others. Most of them were a lovely silver and blue that blended into the cloudy sky, but this one was an almost vulgar shade of orange and black. The black X-wing was the leader, clearly, and flew around the other starfighters as if watching and guiding them, occasionally slipping flawlessly into the formations and backing up its brethren, then right back out.

Ellra briefly dozed off on her hilltop, the fascinating movements of the ships above her hypnotizing her into a comfortable, drowsy trance.

In her sleepy state, she envisioned herself in the cockpit of one of the starfighters, calling commands to her wingmates, answering requests for backup, blasting bad guys out of the sky. Her heart was light and bursting with _joi de vivre_ the entire time.

At one point, she thought she heard Poe’s voice.

“In formation at my eight, Lieutenant Oka. Let Red Four watch your back while you watch mine.”

“Copy, Commander,” she heard herself reply, falling in behind the orange and black starfighter.

Around noon, the ships all returned to the valley and landed. Ellra, stirred from her trance by the humming of the engines, watched the pilots emerge from their respective crafts and meet in the middle. The senior pilots stood and addressed the younger ones. Ellra couldn’t hear them from her distance, of course, but she assumed the seniors were praising or criticizing the less experienced pilots’ actions.

Shortly, most of the pilots went inside for lunch. Ellra stretched and rose from her position in the soft, green grass and followed suit.

The commissary was packed when she got there. She looked around for Poe, but he was already seated at a table surrounded by young pilots who were hanging on his every word, their dinners all forgotten in front of them.

She chuckled to herself as she waited for her food, thinking about what it would be like to be a pilot under someone like Poe Dameron. Part of her wanted to learn to fly so badly it made her heart hurt. Part of her knew she had no place in a cockpit. But the first part really didn’t care what the second part thought.

As Ellra looked around for a place to sit, a strange memory she hadn’t recalled before made itself known.

_You’re gonna make one helluva pilot someday._

Poe had said that to her. When? She wasn’t sure. But she was suddenly certain he had said it to her. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she sat down beside Ilya who was deep in conversation with a computer technician she was friendly with.

As she ate, Ellra thought about the way she could feel what it was like inside a cockpit, how naturally she envisioned herself there. It felt right.

But how did Poe know that? Did he know that? Why would he say what he did?

As she sprinkled spicy sauce into her stew, she decided to ask him.

After lunch, Ellra hastily returned to the cappa paddock to check on the animals before wandering through the landing field. With one hand held up to shield her eyes from the glare of the hot sun that peeked between the clouds, she scanned the valley for familiar faces. Jessika and Oddy were leaning against her X-wing, discussing a part Oddy was holding. A few mechanics Ellra knew were working on various ships, preferring the direct sunshine to the cold lighting inside the hangar. Service droids were rolling in and out of the main hangar, carrying tools and parts.

Jessika’s eyes happened to land on Ellra as she wandered the valley, clearly lost.

“Ellra?” she called, stepping out of the shade of her ship.

“Looking for Poe,” Ellra called back.

Jessika smiled slyly and jerked her head in the direction of the main hangar.

“A-wing,” she said before waving goodbye to Ellra and returning to her conversation.

Ellra continued in the direction Jessika had indicated, spotting the ship she had only recently learned was called an A-wing. The blue and silver ship sat right outside the open maw of the main hangar, shining in the sun, with various hatches and engine compartments open.

As she approached the vintage A-wing interceptor, Ellra spotted three people in jumpsuits working on it from different angles, different tools in their hands and various parts on the ground around them. She recognized the second head mechanic, a captain from Blue Squadron, and Poe.

“…First person to build their own shield generator for an A-wing,” she heard Poe say as she arrived.

He was kneeling on the edge of the wing, soldering some exposed wiring and subtly nodding his head to a beat apparently only he could hear. His jumpsuit was tied at his waist, Ellra couldn’t help thinking, merely so that the sun would shine on his tan shoulders.

 “I swear to all the gods in the universe that if I have to take one more critical hit in this rattletrap, I’m going to lose it,” said the pilot from Blue, her wry laughter resonating dully from the compartment in which her head was tucked. “Last one dislocated my shoulder.”

“That’s why you’re supposed to let Poe cover you,” said the mechanic in sing-song, knocking on the wall of the compartment he was working in.

“Poe’s a busy boy. Can’t expect him to have my ass every second,” retorted the pilot.

“And! And, I wasn’t even on the run that dislocated your shoulder, Tallie,” said Poe, looking up from his work to grin at her even though she couldn’t see him.

“And Snap’s just not the wingman you are,” she said, looking up and pointing a big screwdriver at Poe.

“I can _hear_ you,” cried Snap from somewhere inside the hangar.

“No, you _can’t_!” cried Poe and Tallie in unison.

The mechanic chuckled to himself.

Ellra took the opportunity to politely clear her throat during the lull in conversation.

“Oh, hey, Ell,” said Poe, smiling over his shoulder at her.

“Poe, can I ask you something?”

“Absolutely,” he said. “One sec.”

Poe set down what he was working on and hopped down from the wing of the ship. He pulled the neck of his dirty undershirt up and wiped the sweat off his face before turning and smiling at Ellra.

She stood a moment, a little sheepish now that she was here and she actually had no idea how to phrase her question. She worried her bottom lip for a moment, examining Poe’s boots and the various ship parts strewn at his feet.

“Poe,” she finally said, clearing her throat again, “why did you say you believe I’ll be a pilot someday?”

By the way he relaxed at her query, it seemed Poe had been afraid she wanted to ask about something a bit more serious, but he smiled at her question, lazily leaning back on the hull of the craft and crossing his ankles. He absently rubbed his chin with a dirty hand, obviously contemplating his answer.

“If I tell you, you’ll laugh,” he said.

Ellra was completely confused by that answer. She met his eyes. “What?”

“I don’t want to tell you ‘cause you’ll laugh at me,” he repeated, trying to hide a smirk. “I didn’t even think you’d heard me say that.”

“Um, what if I promise not to laugh at you?” she tried.

“Pinkie promise?”

“What?”

“Never mind,” said Poe, shaking his head. He looked over his shoulder at his companions and said, “Don’t listen.”

They tittered.

Ellra blinked but kept her eyes steady on Poe’s, ready for some great tidbit of ace pilot’s wisdom.

“I know in my heart that you’ll be a pilot someday,” he began slowly, “because when I look in your eyes, I see the stars.”

“What?” cried Ellra, losing all composure. “Is that a _pickup line_?”

Laughter resonated from the hull of the A-wing and Poe cast a reproving look over his shoulder at his companions.

“No,” he said firmly, looking back at Ellra. “Though, yeah, that’d be a good one,” he added, congratulating himself with a shit-eating grin.

Ellra stood firm, not so much glaring Poe down, but certainly withering his attitude. His smile softened.

“It’s not a pickup line,” he assured her, his fingers absently fiddling with something under his shirt. “It’s what my mother said to me the day she decided to teach me how to fly.”

Ellra’s face immediately fell. She recognized the tone in Poe’s voice. She tilted her head down enough that a wide swath of curls hung between her eyes and his now solemn gaze, which she felt might break her heart if she kept looking. Her mother had died giving birth, so she understood Poe’s pain.

“I’m sorry,” she said simply. “I didn’t know.”

Poe stepped forward to clap her warmly on the shoulder. He didn’t sound upset as he said, “Of course not. It’s okay.”

Ellra breathed and met his eyes again. He didn’t step back and instead tilted his head slightly, examining her eyes.

“Yep, there they are,” he said a little too softly, a little too warmly. “The stars.”

Ellra swallowed hard and tried not to flush, though she knew it was involuntary. But she refused to look away from Poe’s gaze.

“You can’t help it,” said Poe, startling her.

She thought he meant the heat creeping into her face.

“Hmm?”

He smiled again and said, “When your heart belongs to the skies, you can’t help it. Your eyes give it away. You long to be up there…”

He paused a moment to look up at the swirling periwinkle and silver sky above them, briefly squinting as the sun made another appearance.

“It calls you,” he finished, looking back down at Ellra, his face wistful and calm.

“Wow, Poe, that’s really romantic,” said Tallie, smirking at them over the hatch door. “You write that yourself?”

“I make it up as I go,” said Poe in mock defense, looking back at her.

“So you see that in me?” said Ellra, cautiously. She pulled a strand of hair from her face to look up at the sky for a moment. “What your mother saw in you?”

“Yup,” said Poe, with almost obnoxious certainty. “I saw it that morning you watched the Y-wings take off. I’d never seen it in someone like that. I knew it instantly when I saw the look in your eyes. One of these days you’re going to be a famous space pilot. An _ace_ space pilot,” he added, giving her a traditional thumbs-up.

Ellra smiled and returned the gesture.

As she turned to walk away with this wisdom, face warm and heart full, Poe suddenly added, “I really hope I’m there to see you.”

Ellra paused. Finding herself braver than she thought, she said over her shoulder, “Who do you think will have been my mentor?”

She winked and walked away without waiting for a response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the section with Poe written way before the story got that far. I just wanted to write Poe a; being romantic as hell b; nostalgic for his mom and c; sweaty and sexy in the sun. Shoot me.


	7. Mechanics

Ellra never neglected her duties regarding the cappa, of course. They were still hers. She cared for them and milked them regularly and monitored their wellbeing on her datapad when she wasn’t able to check on them in person.

But she wondered if there was more she could do to keep busy and to contribute. She wasn’t sure what to say or do about it, but she mulled the concept around in her head for a couple of weeks before making the decision.

“I want to help,” she said out loud in the middle of the dining room, her tray laden with her new favorite foods.

“That’s great, thanks,” said someone she’d never seen before who heard her. “I look forward.”

They laughed together for a moment.

“What are you going to help with?” asked the stranger, following Ellra to a table.

Ellra looked down at her tea.

“Everything,” she said simply, meeting her companion’s eye.

“Where do you want to start?” he asked.

“You have a suggestion?”

“I need an extra pair of hands tomorrow on a project.”

“What do you do?” asked Ellra, motioning for him to sit across from her.

“I’m a mechanical engineer,” he said, tossing a long blonde plait over his shoulder as he settled. “I’m trying to reinforce the cooling center of a really old hyperdrive, seeing if we can recycle old parts and save money. This is my pet project I do in my spare time and right now none of my fellows want to help. I could use a set of small, strong hands,” he added, gesturing to Ellra’s hands.

She looked down at them too. They were small, strong, dexterous, calloused, and lightly scarred. They seemed about right.

“But I don’t have any mechanical experience or training,” she said.

“I just need assistance. If you can follow commands, that’s all I need,” he said, pulling a pair of round, yellow-tinted glasses down off his head and over his eyes as he examined his dinner. “I’m Magnus, by the way,” he added, reaching across the table and shaking Ellra’s hand. Before she could respond, he said, “I know who you are. You’re the herdsman who lives outside.”

“I do not live outside!” cried Ellra, indignant.

“Sorry, sorry,” mumbled Magnus, holding his hands up. “I just thought – ”

“The _cappa_ live outside. I live in the _barracks_. I’m a person!” she said.

“Calm down. I’m sorry.”

Ellra wasn’t even sure why the comment made her so angry, but it did. She felt like Magnus thought she was some kind of savage.

She glared across the table at the young man. His blue eyes looked vivid green through the yellow lenses. Loose strands of his hair framed his face where they’d fallen out of his braid. He didn’t wear green coveralls like the other mechanics; instead he wore striped overalls, the suspenders of which were tattered and perforated; pens were clipped to the front pocket and slips of paper were tucked here and there.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “My colleague said she hadn’t seen you anywhere but outdoors.”

“Well, don’t ever think you’ll get to see where I sleep anyway!” she barked.

Magnus managed to keep a chuckle from escaping, but Ellra caught the shadow of a smirk on his thin lips.

“I’m sorry,” he said again with finality. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I won’t make any more assumptions.”

“The only reason you would think I live outside is because your pasty ass has never been there,” said Ellra, trying her best to blend her anger with the sarcastic humor she thought made friends.

Magnus stared hard at her through his glasses, his eyes intense. She stared right back. Finally, he smiled slowly and slyly.

“Fair enough,” he said softly, nodding. “Fair enough.”

Ellra relaxed, relieved for reasons beyond her, and let a tiny smile slip across her mouth.

“What’s your name, then?” asked Magnus, relaxing in his seat as well.

“If you’d waited before, you’d know I’m Ellra Oka of the Ishta.”

“I learned my lesson.”

Magnus was a strange chap. He was incredibly mouthy and wordy when he was in his element, which was anything technical or mechanical. Not so much computers or droids, but big machines that worked and flew and carried and pushed. If he was a little more likeable and a little more experienced, he’d be the Resistance’s head fleet engineer.

Ellra found him fascinating and she hung on his every word, never missing an opportunity to use her growing quick wit to put him in his place.

They conversed for a while and Magnus spoke about what he did, and gave a brief overview of his project. Ellra was interested and agreed to come down to the hangar where he worked later when she had free time.

 

Magnus’ workspace was a small area in the back of the lower hangar repair bay piled high with parts and tools and boxes of junk, and Ellra followed him to it the next day. An entire X-wing’s s-foil hung vertically from the ceiling on its length, battered and still bearing the Resistance’s insignia, creating a wall of sorts to separate his space from others’. The torso of an antique Imperial service droid was suspended from a roughly welded iron frame next to the primary work space, a heavy wooden desk.

“Hello,” said the droid, causing Ellra to jump straight up in the air.

“You’re alive!” she squealed, bumping into the suspended wing and falling onto the ground.

Another mechanic nearby, her head inside an enormous engine, didn’t have to look up to know what just happened. She laughed as she reached for another tool.

“Yep, we all had the same response,” she said, crawling deeper into the engine.

“Barely,” said the droid. “Alive I mean. Do I constitute as alive as I’m a droid? What about by droid standards? Bah, barely then if that.” His cylindrical head rotated forlornly.

“What the absolute hell?” cried Ellra, turning to Magnus who wore a satisfied grin.

“Doxon,” he said, gesturing to the droid. “Doxon, Ellra.”

“I don’t get enough visitors back here,” said Doxon, the servos in his neck whirring slowly. “It’s nice to meet you, Ellra. I’d shake your hand but as you can see I’m tied up.”

Indeed the droid’s arms were tied with heavy wire to the metal frame supporting him. His fingers wiggled feebly.

“Puns?” mumbled Ellra, turning in horror back to Magnus.

“He gets bored.”

“You keep him prisoner!”

“I’m trying to find him a body,” corrected Magnus, turning to pick up what appeared to be the leg of an old protocol droid. “Just can’t find the right parts.”

“Why do you have half of a droid in the first place?” demanded Ellra, stamping one foot in frustration.

Magnus sighed.

“Doxon belonged to my father who was a well-respected Imperial engineer. When the Empire fell, my father went to work for a deep space exploration company. Doxon and my father were in an unfortunate accident several years ago. My father died and Doxon didn’t. He’s all the family I had left, so I kept him.”

“ _Half_ of him!”

“The other half was melted into the floor!”

Ellra released a small scream.

“It’s fine, really,” said Doxon. “All my problems are beneath me.”

Her next scream wasn’t quite so small.

Ellra couldn’t understand what she was feeling. Something about the poor droid’s situation seemed inhumane. It hurt a deep part of her stomach, or was it her heart? She wasn’t sure. She just knew the whole thing seemed wrong.

“I’m waiting for the _right body_ ,” insisted Magnus. “Doxon deserves a good body.”

“You waitin’ for someone to die, Maggie?” piped the mechanic from earlier.

Magnus sighed and rolled his eyes. “The only person I wish would die is you, Tryx,” he said through gritted teeth. “But you’re damn immortal.”

“You bet. You’re stuck with my ass for eternity.” Her laughter resonated inside the engine.

“Proof that hell is real,” said Magnus, turning back to Ellra, who still stood in horror.

“Please feel no pity for me, dear Ellra,” said Doxon softly. “My only complaint is it gets a little lonely here with no body to offer me support.”

“Stop it!” cried Ellra. “I can’t take the jokes.”

“He’s like this all day,” called Tryx. “You just haven’t heard them all yet, so he’s having fun with you.”

It was a while before Ellra was calm enough to listen to Magnus detail his project and what he required of her. When she relaxed she listened to him explain.

New parts cost money. New ships cost money. The Resistance was funded by private individuals and everyone knew that the money would eventually run out. Magnus hoped he could make some of the money go a little farther by salvaging very old parts, some pre-Empire, and bringing them up to modern standards to fit the Resistance’s current fleet. He frequently had people pick up junk parts and crafts for him on supply runs and he worked on them in his spare time.

Magnus’s current effort was a hyperdrive someone had brought him that once served a Rebellion-era shuttle. It was in working condition, interestingly enough, but it could never keep up to a modern ship’s power and speed demands – the core would burst from the pressure. His theory was that reinforcing the drive’s mineral-lined cooling core would allow the vintage drive to withstand the demands a newer ship would place on it. Obviously, this was a theory that would have to be tested, but he couldn’t test it until he could finish modifying the hyperdrive.

“And since your droid can’t give you a hand…” ventured Ellra.

“Ha, she’s got it,” said Doxon, clearly appreciative of her little joke. “She’s on the shuttle!”

“And that’s why you’re here,” said Magnus.

To her surprise, Ellra spent several weeks with Magnus, not only manually assisting on his project, but learning basic knowledge of mechanics and engineering as well as physics, something she had no prior grasp of but he was a master of.

They didn’t mind each other’s company and Ellra actually began to appreciate Doxon’s morbid humor. She secretly vowed to find the droid a suitable body because deep down, part of her believed Magnus wasn’t really looking.

By spending so much time in the repair bay, Ellra made friends with the other mechanics and engineers, and by proxy expanded her circle of friends to include pilots, techs, droids, and officers.

Thrilled to participate in the general upkeep of the Resistance in whatever little ways she could, Ellra wound up helping each group a little bit at a time.

First the mechanics started teaching her small tasks she could do to help them, like soldering wires or fastening panels back into place once work was done. She learned more and more simply by watching them, amazed at her own ability learn so quickly.

The pilots and engineers considered her something of a mascot and welcomed her presence in their workspaces. It was seen as good luck if she was present to watch you take off and land.

Soon, Ellra spent most of her free time around the hangars and landing strip. She particularly appreciated the opportunity to see Poe more often.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote Magnus in the original version I posted on Tumblr, but I got nervous about having so many side OCs, so I left him out. This version is more relaxed, so I'm adding all the stuff I left out.


	8. Cockpit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe's two great loves come together

Poe Dameron was surprised early one morning to see Ellra sitting on top of an X-wing, listening to an older mechanic patiently explain how the T-70’s split engines were more efficient than the round engines of the T-65B, the model he repaired for the Rebellion thirty-five years before.

BB-8 rolled up behind him and beeped curiously.

“Ellra,” answered Poe, nodding towards the conversing pair. “She’s learning about starfighters.”

BB-8 beeped and whistled, looking up at Poe.

“I don’t know. Seems like a good opportunity, doesn’t it, buddy?”

In a moment, a service droid rolled up to the X-wing and called away the mechanic, leaving Ellra typing notes into her datapad and nodding to herself.

“Are you going to be a mechanic, Ell?” called Poe, approaching the ship.

“Poe! Hi!” she said, maybe a little too eagerly. “Hi, BB! Guess what I’m doing?”

“Not a clue,” said Poe, looking around curiously. “I’m stumped. What could you possibly be doing in the repair hangar?”

“Silly. The pilots and mechanics are teaching me how to fix spaceships!”

Ellra jumped down from the craft, knees bending beneath her to absorb the impact.

BB-8 beeped something encouraging.

“Thanks! I’m excited to be truly useful to the Resistance. If I get good at fixing ships, maybe I’ll be comfortable enough someday to try flying them, just like Poe said!”

She was surprised at herself. She had become so relaxed and comfortable around these people she could babble about her hobbies and experiences and didn’t think for one second she was being annoying or weird.

“I’m proud of you,” said Poe, clapping her shoulder encouragingly. “I think you can do anything.”

“I just can’t get over how amazing the X-wings are. Their size, their power, their _history_ …” said Ellra, drifting off dreamily as she looked up at the ship upon which she had just been sitting. “I can’t wait to fly one.”

“Do you want to sit in my cockpit?” Poe blurted suddenly.

Ellra turned to look at him and blinked curiously.

“Is that a euphemism?” she asked, trying to match his famous flirty smile.

“Do you want it to be?” he didn’t hesitate to retort.

The gratuitously sensual gaze Poe shot Ellra was more than she could handle and instead of being embarrassed she burst out laughing an obnoxious laugh she didn’t think herself capable of. It reminded her of Ilya’s boisterous laugh.

“I’d actually love to sit in your X-wing, Poe,” she said when she calmed down, the realization sinking in of what that meant. “May I?”

“Yeah, I have a few minutes,” he said. “Do you?”

“A few,” said Ellra, biting her lip in anticipation.

Poe led her up a level and across the main hangar to the T-70 that stood out the most. In addition to a few mechanical modifications, it was painted a vivid orange and black. Ellra recognized this as the fighter that led the maneuvers a few days before.

The pretty paint job was scuffed up here and there and a couple of panels had recently been hammered out.

“This is yours,” said Ellra, turning to look at Poe. It wasn’t a question. It was barely a statement. More like an exclamation of awe.

“ _Black One_ ,” he said, wheeling a ladder up to the side as BB-8 whistled loudly.

The little droid spun quickly in place before feigning being knocked over, chirping and beeping while he did so.

“What did he say?” asked Ellra.

“He said you wouldn’t believe the adventures we’ve had in this baby.”

She laughed. “I couldn’t imagine.”

Poe stood beside the ladder, looking hopeful.

“Oh, am I supposed to…?” she mumbled, pointing up.

He nodded and held out one hand for assistance. She laughed the hand off and climbed.

“Throw your leg over and climb in,” she heard Poe say as he climbed the ladder behind her.

The seat squeaked lightly as Ellra settled in.

“Spirits,” she breathed.

The interior of the cockpit was black. The control panel in front of her was far more expansive and complex than she had imagined when looking from a slight distance. Her legs disappeared under the panel as she relaxed her posture.

Poe leaned over the side of the cockpit, his arms resting on the edge in front of him, his face close to Ellra’s as she took in the sights.

She pointed shyly at the controls.

“May I?”

The smile on Poe’s face almost stopped her heart.

Ellra let the fingers of her right hand trace over the flight stick in her lap. She didn’t dare touch any of the toggles or buttons, but she _felt_ the controls in her hand.

“It’s so real,” she whispered.

“As real as it gets,” quipped Poe, smiling as he watched her.

BB-8 whistled agreement below.

Ellra closed her eyes and breathed.

She felt the spirits whisper things to her that made her heart race. An acrid, burning smell entered her nostrils and stung the back of her throat. In her mind’s eye, she saw Poe’s face, screwed up in concentration and…pain? She saw an explosion. She heard BB-8 tweet in fear. She heard Snap laughing through a crackling comm. She heard Poe cry out triumphantly.

“Ell?” she suddenly heard through static and she snapped her eyes open.

“Poe!”

A bead of sweat rolled down her cheek and Poe watched it nervously. It took a moment for him to say, “Are you Force sensitive?”

“What?” gasped Ellra. “I am not. I don’t even believe in the Force.”

Poe blinked nonchalantly.

“I think you’re Force sensitive,” he said simply, changing the way his weight rested on the ladder. “I’ve only seen that once before.”

“I am not Force sensitive,” she reiterated, crossing her arms on her chest; the burning scent lingered as she breathed heavily.

“Then what the hell did I just watch? What happened to you on your first morning here? What is that you keep doing?”

Ellra sunk back into the seat, not quite ready to share the information with Poe, uncertain what his reaction would be. She looked back on her experience watching the two Y-wings. She looked down at Black One’s flight stick in her lap and thought about how vividly she saw Poe struggling to keep the ship under his control.

“I don’t know,” she quietly admitted to her folded arms.

“You don’t know?” he repeated.

“My people believe in listening to the spirits,” she explained. “We can sometimes feel things, understand things the spirits wish to convey. But lately… Lately I don’t just feel things, I see and hear them as vividly as if I was there. It started the night you saw me watch the Y-wings take off.”

Poe listened silently before looking down at BB-8. He reached across the control panel in front of Ellra and pressed a button.

Ellra looked over her shoulder at BB-8 now in the astromech socket behind the cockpit. She smiled.

“Oh, hi, little friend.”

BB-8 whistled excitedly at her.

“I want to make sure I follow: Lately, you see and feel other people’s experiences,” said Poe, folding his arms on the edge of the cockpit again, resting his chin on them and fixing his eyes on Ellra. “Particularly pilots’,” he added.

Ellra nodded solemnly. “Just glimpses,” she amended. “Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

Poe shook his head. “Nah. I really think you’re in tune with the Force. It sounds like everything I’ve ever heard about it, down to touching certain objects.”

BB-8 beeped a confirmation.

“Father never prepared me for this,” deadpanned Ellra, staring into nothingness.

Poe chuckled.

He put his hand on her shoulder and said, “I don’t think it’s something you need to worry about. I think, if anything, it may be useful. Especially when you decide to learn to fly.”

When Ellra met Poe’s gaze she was surprised by how comforted she was by the look in his dark eyes. She felt safe in ways she didn’t understand.

“Thanks,” she whispered, giving him the gentlest, most sincere smile she had.

Poe moved to climb down the ladder.

“Hey, Poe,” said Ellra, leaning over the edge of the cockpit to look at him.

“Yeah?”

“What’s the smell in here?”

“Smell?” he repeated.

“It’s not engine fuel. But it burns my nose. Like an explosion?”

Poe smirked as his feet hit the ground.

“That’s space,” he said, looking up at her.

“Space?” she repeated.

“That’s what space would smell like if you could breathe out there.”

“Wow…” she whispered in awe. “I smell space…”

BB-8 whistled and booped animatedly.

After another moment of contemplation, Ellra climbed out of the cockpit.

Poe must have been waiting for her back to be turned because he suddenly said, “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

She wasn’t sure what to say, but she suddenly felt her heart beating in the back of her mouth and climbing down the ladder was made difficult by her slippery hands.

“I wanted you to know so you didn’t worry,” he said, his voice almost apologetic.

On the ground, Ellra turned to look at him.

“I think I’ll worry anyway, Poe, you’re my best friend,” she said, doing her best to maintain eye contact.

An indignant beep interrupted whatever Poe was about to say.

“You and BB-8, of course,” amended Ellra, bending down to pet the droid as he rolled out from under the ship. “When will you be back?” she asked, rising.

“The general gave us – that is, my new squad and I – a secret mission to run. We only have a general idea of where we’re going and what we’re doing, so I can’t say for sure. But we shouldn’t be gone more than a few days,” said Poe, feigning nonchalance, his hands in his pants pockets. “I asked Connix to keep you apprised. So you didn’t worry,” he quickly added.

Ellra couldn’t keep the pleased smirk off her face. Poe matched it and said, “Don’t get a big head or anything.”

“How could I not?” she said, playfully nudging his arm.

Her face fell as uncertainty suddenly gripped her and she found her hand clutching the sleeve of Poe’s jacket where she had just nudged him.

“May I give you a hug before you go?” she asked, using every ounce of strength in her body to ensure her voice didn’t crack.

“I wouldn’t have left without one.”

Ellra leaned up and wrapped her arms around Poe’s neck and felt his strong arms around her waist. BB-8 gently rolled against their legs.

Pride and embarrassment both told Ellra not to get too lost in the embrace, but fear and something else told her to go all-in. She let herself bury her face in the collar of Poe’s jacket and squeeze him tightly. To no one’s surprise, he squeezed back.

Deep in her silvery curls, soft enough no one, even BB-8, could hear, Poe whispered, “I’ll come back.”

Ellra wasn’t even aware that she breathed, “I’ll be waiting,” against the side of his neck.

“Alright, that’s enough!” cried one of the mechanics.

The pair let go and tried not to dissolve into embarrassed laughter.

Ellra knelt down to wrap her arms around BB-8 now.

“Be safe, my darling little friend, ok?” she said softly. “And please keep this goofball safe.”

BB-8 whistled proudly and beeped something affirmative.

Ellra beamed as she planted a kiss on top of BB-8’s dome.

“Wait, he gets a _kiss_?” gasped Poe in mock indignation. “I only got a hug!”

Laughing gently as she rose to her feet, Ellra said, bolder than ever before, “What if I promise you one when you get back?”

Poe froze.

Ellra chewed her lip but maintained a coy smile as she gazed up at him.

“I’ll hold you to it,” he said playfully after regaining his composure.

BB-8 whistled in agreement.

As Poe walked away with BB-8 rolling loyally at his side, Ellra smiled to herself, wondering how her heart could feel so full while she still felt so afraid.


	9. Age is Just a Number

In Poe’s absence, Ellra looked for more work to do to keep herself busy. Since she was up half the night, the med bay’s night shift took her under their wing and had her helping in the office. Occasionally, during a slow period, one of the nurses would give her a lesson in field medicine. Soon she was starting IVs and wrapping bandages.

Early in the morning, Resistance administration would use her as a go-for, sending her on errands around the base. She followed directions to a T and had no problem walking all over base to deliver files or messages.

One morning, before daybreak, Ellra walked into high command with arms full of files, and every head turned to her.

“How did you get in here?” demanded General Organa.

Ellra froze, her heart racing.

“I – I, uh, was helping archives with some stuff and they asked me to take these here to you?” she said, hiding part of her face behind a file folder.

“They gave you the access code for high command?” asked Controller Connix, incredulous, as she took the files from her.

“Were they not supposed to?”

“Oy,” grumbled Connix, rubbing her eyes.

“Why are you delivering files for archives, Miss Ellra?” asked the general, hands on her hips. “Why aren’t you caring for the animals?”

Ellra explained how the animals didn’t need ‘round the clock care and she wanted to be helpful on more than one front.

“I helped repair Collin Burster’s Y-wing last week, and organized the droid repair bay the other day. Yesterday, I learned how to reassemble a damaged blaster from the firing instructor and this morning I swept the main hangar,” she said, ticking each item off her fingers.

“She’s a jack of all trades,” said Connix, stifling laughter. “Good work, Ellra.”

“Thanks, Kaydel,” said Ellra, waving back.

General Organa considered Ellra for a long minute, her eyes occasionally flicking to those of one of her admirals or advisors then back to Ellra’s flushed face.

“You’re an interesting character, Ellra,” said the general, finally. “Commander Dameron speaks highly of you, and everyone I’ve asked about you says they like you and you’re helpful.”

“Oh, spirits, general,” said Ellra, her hands flying up to her mouth. “I didn’t know! Thank you!”

General Organa nodded, a hint of a smile on her lips.

“I’d like to give you a shot to be more than just an errand girl and grunt,” she said, shifting her weight to rest her hip on the table behind her.

“Oh, General,” gasped Ellra. “I want that so badly!”

She couldn’t help the way her hands trembled as she listened to the general; they matched the fluttering of her heart in her chest.

“I have a squad of new recruits coming in from the academy in about a week,” said the general, tapping a thick stack of files near her hip. “I’d like you to join them, when you’re able to, and learn everything you can about combat, space travel, weapons, and survival. Pretend you’re enlisted. Pretend you’re a new recruit.”

“I would be honored, General,” breathed Ellra, moving her hands from her mouth to an adamant salute.

“Listen to your commanding officers,” said General Organa, “even if the officer is Commander Dameron, understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Focus on your own strengths and what you can do to help your fellow soldiers. Don’t push yourself to the breaking point – that’s not why I’m letting you do this. But test your limits. Get stronger. Be braver. Learn from everything and everyone around you.”

Ellra nodded obediently at each point the general made, her salute never faltering.

“I’m truly curious to see what kind of asset you’ll become to the Resistance, if you decide to join us. I believe you have a lot to offer, Ellra,” said General Organa smiling. “You’re a remarkable young woman.”

Ellra’s heart was rattling against her ribs like a trapped moth. No one had ever spoken about her potential like that, made her feel like she was a well of limitless, untapped power.

“I’m going to make you and Commander Dameron proud,” she said, ending the salute with a flourish.

With a small chuckle, the general returned the salute and said, “Dismissed!”

Ellra turned and marched out of the room.

“Ellra!” called the general behind her.

“Ma’am?”

“Stop running errands for people. Tell Tamar to deliver the damned records to me personally like she’s _supposed_ to.”

Ellra smirked and nodded sharply. She turned again and left high command.

 

In the week before the new troops arrived, Ellra made as much of her free time as she could. She had deep, heartfelt conversations with her family back home, spoke for hours in Ishta with C-3PO, joked with Ilya endlessly, made new connections with the people she knew would be training her, and, frankly, if she was honest with herself about it, missed Poe and his friends that made up his team, Black Squadron.

“He’s too old for you, Ell,” said Ilya, lounging in the soft grass of the cappa paddock, her back resting against the rump of a fat cappa cow who was also reclined on the grass.

Ellra was milking a young mother, trying to imagine what kind of adventures she would have in space with Poe and Jessika. She had forgotten what they were talking about.

“Hm?” she said absentmindedly.

“Poe. He’s way too old for you.”

Ellra looked over her shoulder at Ilya, who was chewing a piece of sweet grass and gazing lazily at the grazing animals. Ilya looked up, meeting Ellra’s surprised face.

“Poe’s too old for me… to…?” prompted Ellra, wanting Ilya to spit it out.

“To date. Yeah. He’s too old for you.”

Ellra laughed. It was a lighthearted mix of derision, amusement, and confusion.

“Well, how old is Poe?” she asked, enjoying the game.

Ilya finally looked more alert.

“Older than me!”

Ellra nodded. “And..?”

“I’m twenty-seven. He’s older than me.”

Ellra nodded again, switching off the milking machine to change bottles. She chewed her lip in contemplation.

“I do recall Poe telling me he was alive when his parents fought at the Battle of Endor,” she said, glancing back at Ilya.

“Exactly!” said Ilya, sitting upright. “And that was…”

She paused to count on her fingers.

“Twenty-six years ago!” she said, holding up seven fingers, for some reason.

Ellra nodded solemnly, considering Ilya’s fingers.

“Making Poe about twenty-eight, right?”

Ilya nodded emphatically.

Ellra laughed.

“How old do you think I am, Ilya?” she asked.

Ilya froze, her eyes flicking to those of the lounging cow beside her, as if hoping for some assistance. The cappa lowed softly.

“Aren’t… Aren’t you, like, twenty?” she finally said pathetically.

Ellra looked down and lifted the bundles of thin braids that hung around her face and shoulders.

“Well,” she began, counting off the braids, “it appears that I have circled Tawria’s sun at least… ah… about… thirty-seven times.”

“What?!” shouted Ilya.

Ellra collapsed into laughter.

“Oh, you’re messing with me,” said Ilya, shaking her head. “That’s on your planet. What’s your standard age, dummy?”

Ellra shook off the laughter and nodded at her friend.

“I’m twenty-three. An acceptable age to date someone Poe’s age. It’s the height, isn’t it? It’s the height, right?”

Ilya shrugged.

“You just look really young, yeah,” she said. “And this is coming from the base’s resident squirt.”

“I was really afraid that because I was shy and came from an isolated culture people would infantilize me. And I was right,” said Ellra, sitting on the ground beside Ilya. “But I’ve worked with animals since I could walk. I know how to survive in the wilderness. I can cook and build and fix things. I’ve had significant others – ”

“You’ve had boyfriends?!” interrupted Ilya.

Ellra sighed, her eyes narrowed in frustration.

“Spirits, grant me peace,” she hissed through gritted teeth.

“Sorry,” chuckled Ilya. “I guess I thought you were this sweet, innocent little virgin, you know.”

“I can still be sweet and innocent, Ilya,” sighed Ellra, reclining on the cappa’s rump the way Ilya had earlier. “If I thought Poe wanted to be with me, I actually would assume he thought the same way you did. Like I’m this delicate child to be protected. Who would want to date a little kid?”

It was Ilya’s turn to heave a heavy sigh.

“When you put it that way…” she said, shaking her head absently. “Why do you think I’m second foreman for all the base’s construction? I have to convince everyone I’m a badass so they’ll treat me as their equal.”

Ellra nodded solemnly, patting Ilya’s knee.

After a thoughtful silence, she said, “You think Poe thinks of me like that?”

Ilya shook her head.

“Nah,” she said, leaning back beside Ellra. “Poe’s a sharp guy. Yeah. He sees everyone the way they are. If he has a thing for you – which it is obscenely obvious that he _does_ – ” (here, Ellra giggled) “ – then he’ll make his move when he’s ready. He’s probably more concerned about the whole rank thing.”

Ellra frowned thoughtfully.

“I’m not officially a part of the chain of command yet,” she said. “He should move now.”

The two women chuckled, gazing up at the hazy sky. A squadron of fighters appeared in the atmosphere, flying in tight formation, approaching the base.

“How do you know Poe?” asked Ellra. “You don’t seem to be very good friends, but you know a lot about him. Reputation?”

Ilya shook her head, twiddling her fingers on her stomach.

“It’s embarrassing.”

Ellra sat up to look over at her friend.

“Embarrassing?” she repeated.

Ilya heaved another enormous sigh.

“When we were coming over to first join the Resistance,” she began, “our shuttle, which we’d disguised as a freighter, was waylaid by pirates. We weren’t equipped for that kind of fight. A blast hit the cockpit harder than expected and knocked the pilot unconscious. I had some piloting experience, so I tried to get the ship to lightspeed, away from the pirates, but the nav computer was out. We were boarded. Yeah. When they found out it was just a bunch of Rebel wannabes and not valuable cargo, we knew we were going to be floating home in pieces. Miraculously, our rendezvous, Poe and a couple of his pilots, came out of lightspeed at that exact moment.”

Ilya paused and took a deep breath, avoiding Ellra’s gaze.

“We were saved,” she said, “but _I_ didn’t know that. There was blaster fire, shouting; the ship shuddered. The cockpit’s blast doors opened suddenly. I grabbed a blaster off the unconscious pilot’s hip and fired at the first thing that came through.”

“No!” cried Ellra, throwing her hands over her mouth, knowing what was about to happen.

Ilya’s face scrunched up in embarrassment and horror.

“Yes. It was one of Poe’s pilots – Meekan, I think his name was. I shot him. Yeah. Took half his arm off. Poe barreled through, knocking the blaster out of my hand. That should have been that, but I thought _he_ was a pirate!”

Ellra couldn’t stop herself from laughing.

“He _does_ dress like one!” she giggled.

“So I tackled ‘im,” said Ilya, rubbing her forehead.

“No!” cried Ellra, cackling now.

“Yes. And broke his nose. And gave him a black eye. And kicked him in the nuts.”

“Ilya, you fight dirty!” said Ellra, no longer laughing.

“I thought I was about to be sold into slavery to the Hutts,” said Ilya, shrugging. “I put my everything in trying to kill the guy.”

Ellra paused, seeing the look of resignation and regret on Ilya’s face.

“You think he hates you,” she said.

“Wouldn’t you?”

“How did it end?”

“Eh, I was restrained. Taken to General Organa. Yeah, she offered me a spot on the special ops squad.”

“What?!”

 “Poe suggested it apparently. Thought I’d be good at killin’ guys.”

Ellra found herself laughing again.

“But you turned them down because…?”

Ilya fussed with her hair and the scarf tying it back.

“Buildin’ stuff is what I’m good at. That’s what I signed on to do. Yeah. I have a lot to offer by just being myself. Besides… I hurt a man. He had to get a robotic prosthetic because of me. I didn’t want anything to do with hurting people anymore. Only if I have to.”

Ellra smiled and reached over to rub Ilya’s slumped shoulder.

“The general herself told me to play to my strengths. I think that’s part of what makes the Resistance so strong. We all do what we’re good at,” she said softly.

Ilya nodded and smiled. She said, “The general’s a sharp lady.”

“So, you do think Poe hates you?” asked Ellra, standing slowly and dusting off her clothes.

“Even though he recommended me for special ops, he’s never said one word to me socially. I visited him and Meekan in the medbay and they both were surprisingly cordial considering I nearly killed them both. Well, Poe said, ‘I wouldn’t say you nearly killed me. I’d say you defended yourself admirably before being swiftly disabled by a veteran soldier with more experience.’”

Ellra and Ilya shared a chuckle here.

“That sounds like him,” said Ellra, extending a hand to pull Ilya to her feet.

“But after that, we rarely saw each other. I don’t even know if Meekan’s still around. So we kind of know each other, but we kind of don’t, you know?” said Ilya, absently straightening her clothes.

Ellra nodded and began putting away her milking equipment.

“Hey, Ell. When is Black due back, anyway?” asked Ilya, wheeling a full jug of milk to the gate.

Ellra paused, trying to recall what day it was. Her face broke into a grin as her heart fluttered softly.

“Today,” she whispered, almost to herself.

“Today?” repeated Ilya.

“Yeah, why?”

“Well, there’s another squadron up there getting ready to land,” said Ilya, pointing nonchalantly up to the sky with one finger. “Yeah.”

Ellra almost dropped the box she was picking up as her face jerked heavenward.

“Why don’t I finish putting this stuff away while you go, I dunno, whatever it is gals do when their flyboys get home?”

Ellra squealed and slapped a big, wet smooch on Ilya’s cheek as she dashed off.

She trotted excitedly down the valley, following the squadron of five starfighters in formation overhead towards the landing area. They touched down seconds before she rounded a corner and came into view. She froze, her boots leaving a tiny divot in the packed dirt, and watched the pilots exit their respective crafts.

A small landing party met Black Squadron on the tarmac. Ellra recognized Connix and some of the general’s other close confidantes, a handful of mechanics, Oddy, of course, and a computer technician.

Jessika removed her helmet first, wiping sweat from her brow. Her black braid looked damp and her flightsuit clung to her neck. L’ulo and Snap engaged one another in conversation as soon as their helmets were off, their voices anxious, even to Ellra, who was too far away to distinguish their words.

Poe strode quickly to Connix, shedding his helmet as he went, and whispered something in her ear. She nodded sharply and rushed back inside the base, Ellra assumed, to the general. The others conferred with Poe for a moment, taking notes on their datapads, before scurrying back inside themselves. Poe took the moment of peace to flex his muscles and stretch his neck before looking back at _Black One_ and calling for BB-8.

With a tweeting whistle, the little droid rolled from under the X-wing and stopped at Poe’s feet. He knelt and placed one hand on either side of BB-8’s spherical body, speaking low and carefully.

Ellra felt ashamed for just a moment that she was eavesdropping on such an intimate conversation, even though she couldn’t hear what was being said.

BB-8 listened intently to what Poe told him, nodding his domed head or beeping in confirmation from time to time. When he was done speaking, Poe tipped his head close to BB-8’s body and the little droid nuzzled his head against Poe’s.

Poe then rose and looked around the valley, finally spotting Ellra, shyly watching from a distance. She gave a tiny wave. BB-8 spotted her at the same time and whistled excitedly. Poe smiled softly and beckoned her over with a gentle gesture of his fingers.

“Commander Poe,” said Ellra, when she reached him.

“Cadet Ellra,” he countered, resting his hands on his hips.

“Glad you’re home safely,” she said, tucking her hands under her tunic. “I hope the mission went well.”

For a moment, the joy on Poe’s face faltered, but he quickly fixed his smile back and said, “As well as expected. We’re all okay and that’s all I hope for when things get tough.”

Ellra smiled wistfully at the sentiment. She looked around and saw that the other pilots had dispersed, except for Karé who was examining her X-wing with Oddy.

She looked up at Poe and saw dirt on his jumpsuit in strange places. His hair was almost dripping wet with sweat, which caused the curls to cling to his face and neck. Strange bits of gravel were caught in the collar of his flightsuit. His cheek was slightly swollen as if he had taken a blow.

Ellra’s next movement was a result of instinct and not thought. She flung herself at Poe and hugged him tightly, gripping a fistful of the collar of his flightsuit behind his neck. She felt him relax as he wrapped her snugly in his arms and squeezed her affectionately.

“Poe…” she sighed dreamily.

He laughed softly at the tone in her voice, entirely mistaking it.

“Yeah?”

“You smell like space!”

With that, Ellra buried her face in the front of Poe’s flightsuit, breathing deeply the burning, stinging scent of dying stars and comets’ tails. He tossed his head back and laughed, holding her tightly against him.

In a moment, Ellra leaned back and coughed.

“It burns my throat,” she said, looking up at Poe.

“It does. It tastes like fireworks.”

Ellra cocked her head thoughtfully, dragging her finger down the front of Poe’s safety harness and examining the dust on her fingertip.

“Don’t!” cried Poe, grabbing her hand as she aimed to lick her finger. “Please don’t taste space, you silly girl.”

“Just curious,” she said sheepishly.

“Obviously,” he said, gently dusting her hand with both of his. “You’ll get your chance when you spend time in your own cockpit, ok?”

Ellra shrugged her compliance and Poe shook his head.

“Hey, Ell,” said Poe, looking thoughtful. “I just remembered. Wasn’t I supposed to get a reward for getting back here safely?” He looked at BB-8 and added, “Wasn’t I, BB-8?”

BB-8 whistled vehemently.

“What kind of reward was that, Commander?” asked Ellra, smirking as she playfully feigned ignorance.

“I don’t remember,” said Poe, shuffling his feet on the tarmac. “I think it was something special. Was it something special, BB-8?” he added, looking down again.

BB-8’s whistle was ecstatic, the series of whirs and beeps that followed an incoherent mess of positivity.

“Oh, my kisses are that good, then, BB-8?” said Ellra, winking at the little droid.

 _Wheeeet whew_.

Ellra dissolved in shy laughter.

“That’s right,” drawled Poe, now feigning realization. “A kiss. You owe me a kiss.”

“I am a woman of my word,” she said, chewing her lip. “Hey, BB-8, where did I kiss you when you left?”

BB-8 nodded his little head and beeped a short response Ellra recognized as “head.”

“And Poe wanted a kiss like I gave you, right?”

BB-8 confirmed with another short beep.

“Awww,” said Poe. “That’s how it’s gonna be, huh? Dirty tricks?”

Ellra motioned for Poe to come closer. He feigned annoyance, but she could see his eyes gleaming with mischief and excitement as he stopped in front of her. She motioned for him to bend down. He sighed dramatically and ducked his head just enough for Ellra to reach him.

“Ew,” she said, gently pushing him back.

“Ew?” repeated Poe, incredulous. “ _Ew_?”

“Your hair’s all sweaty,” said Ellra, looking down her nose at him. “I don’t want to kiss your head right now.”

“You’re killin’ me, Ell,” he chuckled, shaking his head and pulling some of the curls back off his forehead.

“ _So_ …” said Ellra, drawing out the syllable to get his attention again. “I guess I’ll just have to kiss your dumb face then.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me…” breathed Poe, unable to hide his annoyance or his elation.

Ellra swooped in and placed a delicate peck at the corner of Poe’s lopsided grin before he could finish his thought.

“I have to keep you on your toes,” she said, twirling dramatically around and walking away.

“You sure do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want Poe and Ellra's partings and reunions to echo WWII movies and stuff.


	10. Smoke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smoking CW

It was crowded that evening in the dining hall. This was the first time in a while that Ellra’s closest friends and acquaintances had been in such close proximity. Magnus waved at her from the engineers’ table; Connix smiled when she walked by. She greeted each group as she entered the commissary, and the pilots greeted her the most warmly.

 “Sit with us, Ell,” said Snap, motioning to an empty seat beside him. “We missed you.”

“Well, if that doesn’t make a girl feel special,” she said, grinning broadly as she sat down.

The pilots had all had a chance to clean up after being debriefed earlier, and they looked fresh and relaxed in their civilian attire. Poe looked especially handsome with his hair loosely swept back and a clean linen shirt on, but his face betrayed the same undisclosed worry from earlier.

Ellra was afraid to push him to open up because she wasn’t sure where the line lay in their friendship, but she hoped relaxing with his teammates would help him feel better.

The mission Black Squadron just returned from had been top secret on the general’s orders, but the pilots shared what parts of their adventure they could with Ellra, enthralling her with a dramatic retelling of a violent dogfight above the craggy surface of a moon.

“Poe was on the ground,” said Jessika. “He couldn’t provide cover.”

“And I had six TIEs on my ass,” said Snap.

“Liar,” said Karé. “It was three if I’m breathing.”

“L’ulo was the hero of the day,” said Poe, leaning across the table so Ellra could hear him.

“I thought we didn’t use that word, Poe?” said L’ulo, chuckling.

“When it counts, we do!” said Jess, triumphantly gesturing in the air.

Karé patted L’ulo on the back encouragingly.

Ellra leaned back to look around Snap’s broad shape at the table of mechanics. Two turned and made eye contact with her and she smiled, and they returned it. She wasn’t used to having so many people just delighted to have her around. She rarely socialized with more than one or two people at a time back home. Here, she had an entire room full of people who were thrilled to talk to her.

After dinner, Ellra went to her quarters to try and sleep. BB-8 was excited to be back in her room. He wheeled around for a few minutes before switching on an old holo drama and settling back in his charging station to watch it.

Ellra tossed and turned for a while, half listening to the drama unfold at low volume. Her chest was full of anxiety, an almost pulsing kind, one she was unfamiliar with. She eventually sat up and stared across at BB-8. His lights were off except for the low yellow charging indicator.

“Good night, little friend,” she said softly.

She rose and dressed again, deciding to use her wakefulness to go check on the animals. She switched on her datapad and toggled through the different feeds. Her heart flipped behind her clavicle when she saw an unfamiliar shape near the paddock gate and she rushed out of the room, almost tripping in the doorway in her haste.

Ellra raced through the corridors, almost upsetting a medical droid carrying something.

“Sorry!” she gasped, not even stopping.

The swept tarmac thudded softly under her feet as she ran through the valley towards the cappa enclosure. What she was going to do when she found the lurker, she didn’t know. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. Getting there was her first thought.

She slid to a stop, rounding the last hillside that blocked her view, and tripped over her own equipment that Ilya had left earlier.

“What the hell?” said a familiar voice as Ellra untangled her legs from the milking hoses.

“Ilya, that bastard,” she mumbled under her breath.

A strong hand steadied her as she shook the hoses loose.

“Who – Poe?” she stammered.

“Most of the time,” he said, one hand behind his back.

“What are you doing here at one in the morning?”

Poe hesitated. His eyes flicked from Ellra’s face to the paddock to the crate behind him and back to her. He chewed his bottom lip for a moment.

“Contemplating?” he ventured, looking sheepish.

“That’s not an answer,” she said, stamping her foot in annoyance.

The rush of adrenaline from needing to save her animals was gone, leaving her with frustration, the embarrassment of falling into a pile of her own milking equipment, and a powerful urge to blame someone. Poe was an acceptable target.

Poe settled back on the crate he must have been sitting on before Ellra’s noisy arrival, tugging his jacket collar close against the damp breeze rolling down the hillside. He watched her bend over and reorganize her milking equipment before cramming it all into a crate.

She roughly smushed the lid down over the contents and sat on it, folding her legs under her and fixing her eyes on Poe.

“What’s behind your back, Poe?” she asked, gesturing to his concealed arm.

Poe sighed and ducked his head. He held up his hand, revealing a burning cigarette.

“What’s that?” said Ellra blankly.

Poe looked confused. He blinked at her before flicking the loose ash from the end and putting it back between his lips.

“You don’t know what a cigarette is?” he asked, his words punctuated by a small wisp of smoke.

Ellra scrunched her nose as she considered.

“Now that you mention it,” she said, shifting her weight on the crate, “I have seen the traders and smugglers smoking sometimes. I almost forgot. You can follow their smell through the plains and hills.”

Poe smiled and nodded.

“I didn’t know you smoked,” she said, feeling awkward all of a sudden and not knowing why.

“I don’t,” said Poe, scratching his temple and avoiding Ellra’s curious gaze.

She suddenly realized where the anxiety that was keeping her awake came from. Somehow she had picked up on the tight knot of worry deep in Poe’s chest.

“You only smoke when you’re worried about something,” said Ellra, ducking her head to force Poe to meet her eye.

He nodded, his smile forced.

“I don’t get worried,” he finally said. “I don’t get to be anxious or afraid. I have too much responsibility to indulge in that.”

Ellra nodded, the bitterness in his voice not lost on her.

“That’s why you’re sitting here where no one can see, clutching your jacket against your body, indulging in a vulgar vice you don’t want anyone to know about,” she said softly.

“Damn, Ell, call a guy out,” chuckled Poe.

“Poe, may I be personal with you for a moment?” asked Ellra, moving across the small space to kneel next to him.

“What, that wasn’t personal enough?” he quipped, but his smile told Ellra he wasn’t angry. “Knock yourself out.”

“You’re one of the most important people in the Resistance, both as a leader and as a symbol of optimism,” she began, placing a gentle hand on his knee. “That’s a lot of pressure.”

Poe nodded, staring into the distance, a wry smile on his face.

“But you’re also a person.”

This made him look down at Ellra.

“You’re entitled to feel frustrated or scared or confused or discouraged sometimes,” she said. “You don’t have to pretend everything is fine all the time.”

“I can’t show weakness, though,” said Poe, lighting another cigarette.

Ellra watched the light flicker over his face for a moment. For the first time since her coming, Poe had dark circles under his eyes. The sight made her heart ache.

“Feeling things isn’t weakness,” she said.

He shot her a look.

“You know what I mean,” he mumbled around the cigarette. “I have to be the face of bravery to everyone under me. That’s just what it means to be a leader.”

“I’m just trying to say that… it’s _okay_ to let yourself feel these emotions. You’re not jeopardizing missions or compromising informants when you let yourself worry.”

“Actually,” said Poe sharply, “second-guessing yourself _does_ jeopardize missions!”

“I didn’t say you should second-guess yourself. If anything, I believe you should always stand behind your decisions. I see you do it all the time. It’s part of what makes you such a great leader,” said Ellra, leaning up so Poe could see her face better in the darkness.

He smiled.

“You think I’m a great leader?”

She playfully nudged his leg and said, “You’re the best commander I’ve ever seen.”

“Don’t say that. I’m the only commander you’ve ever seen!”

“That’s the joke,” Ellra giggled.

Poe sighed and leaned back on the crate, his arms braced behind him as he stared up at the sky.

Ellra was relieved to see him relax a little. The knot of anxiety she felt from him loosened. She calmly watched his face in the dark, inwardly cursing herself for thinking about how damn good-looking he was. Part of her wanted to yank the cigarette out of his mouth and kiss him.

“Stop staring at me, you’re making me self-conscious,” he said quietly.

“Poe Dameron does not feel self-conscious,” scoffed Ellra.

“Well, if I was capable of feeling self-conscious, you’d be making me self-conscious, so cut it out.”

Ellra laughed gently and followed Poe’s gaze up to the sky. The violet-black expanse was interrupted regularly by silvery-white wisps of clouds which were illuminated eerily by the moon’s glow.

“Poe?” asked Ellra softly, nudging his knee.

“Mm?”

“What happened? I saw the looks on everyone’s faces when you got home today. What happened?”

Poe sighed and leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs. He shook his head and said, “I can’t – ”

“You can’t tell me about the _mission_. Tell me what _happened_ ,” interrupted Ellra.

For a moment, the moonlight reflected in Poe’s eyes and Ellra could see fear in them. It was something ugly to see in him, something foreign. She almost felt like she was violating some private, personal secret by looking at him in that moment.

“Someone betrayed us. We were compromised. The First Order got there first. Yes, we got the information we came for, and that’s a victory, but that victory almost cost my entire team their lives,” said Poe so softly that Ellra could barely make it out.

“You all know better than anyone that your lives could end at any moment,” began Ellra. “But something about this in particular…?”

“Any one of us would consider it an honor to die for the Resistance, for each other,” he said, finally looking down at her. “But this was stupid. It would have been a waste, for any of us to have died today. We weren’t defending anyone or fighting a noble battle. It was deliberate sabotage and it almost killed all five of us… and others.”

Without thinking, Ellra rested her cheek on Poe’s leg and his hand instinctively moved to rest in her hair. She managed to keep from shivering at the touch, but she knew her cheeks were flushed and she was grateful for the darkness.

“You’re afraid of losing someone in vain,” she said softly.

He nodded, again staring at the sky.

Ellra sighed and cleared her throat.

“You got the information, right?” she said.

Poe nodded.

“And it was important to the Resistance, right?”

Another nod.

“Then it wouldn’t have been in vain.”

Poe looked down, his eyes curious.

“Anything you do, your teammates do, your friends and comrades – none of this is in vain. It’s all for this greater cause. It will never be pointless. It will never be in vain.”

Ellra gently shook Poe’s leg beneath her head to emphasize her words and he laughed quietly.

“You sure know how to cheer a guy up,” he said, gently raking his fingers through her curls.

Ellra rose and shook the dirt off her knees. She stretched and flexed her ankles before leaning over Poe and wrapping her arms around him.

“Feel what you need to feel, Poe,” she said softly as she rested her chin on his head. “Wallow if you need to. Feel it, then move on, knowing you’re doing the right thing. Your teammates – a lot of people, actually – count on you not just to be a brave face, but to be the face of what’s _right_. I look up to you, too, because you’re the guy who does the right thing.”

Poe chuckled against Ellra’s chest, which was squished against his face. Neither of the two parties particularly cared.

She leaned back, holding him at arm’s length.

“When you feel the urge to sneak around and have a smoke,” she said, giving him a warning look, “don’t forget your friend Ellra. You can talk to me about anything, anytime. And I won’t get upset because you can’t talk about secrets.”

Poe smiled. Ellra basked in it for a moment because it was a real smile, full of trust and affection.

She leaned over and kissed the top of his head.

“Oh, hey, is my hair better? I showered for you,” said Poe, repressed laughter in his voice.

“Much better,” said Ellra, ruffling his hair playfully. “It’s soft and smells fresh!”

They laughed for a moment then parted.

“Try to rest, Poe, okay?” said Ellra, turning to leave.

“I will. Good night, Ell,” he replied, kicking dirt over the remains of his cigarettes. “Oh!” he suddenly cried. “Wait.”

Ellra stopped and turned around.

“Please don’t tell BB-8 you saw me smoking. He hates it when I do.”

She smirked and made a zipping motion across her mouth before turning and heading back to her quarters.


	11. Sunshine

Despite the lack of sleep, Ellra was up bright and early. She headed to the commissary for breakfast and was pleasantly surprised to see many of her friends there. Ilya was eating with her fellow foreman, another construction worker, and a couple of enlisted; Black Squadron was seated in the corner farthest from the serving line while several other pilots leaned on the closest wall to chat, cups of caf in hand.

After getting her food, Ellra stopped for a moment to smooch Ilya on top of her head and say high to the foreman, then headed to the corner where the pilots were all gathered, chatting and drinking.

“Wow, Ellra,” said Karé, “you look so fresh-faced this morning. Like you’re just radiating sunshine.”

“Oh, Karé, that’s such a nice thing for you to say!” said Ellra, sitting in the last remaining seat at the table. “I always thought your hair was really beautiful.”

Karé beamed before hiding her face behind her mug.

Ellra looked across at Poe who seemed to be forcing conversation with another pilot who stood nearby; he had a sheepish look on his face as he avoided Ellra’s gaze.

“Hey, Poe,” said Snap. “Take a look at the pretty blouse Ellra’s wearing. Wouldn’t you say that shade of yellow is sure… sunny?”

Ellra’s face fell as she froze; the spoon in her hand almost slipped in the bowl of hot grains she was eating.

“Dammit, look what you guys did!” snapped Jessika.

“You’re all making fun of me, aren’t you?” asked Ellra, unable to meet the eyes of anyone present.

“No!” cried Snap and Karé in unison.

“It’s not what you think,” sighed Poe, screwing his face up in embarrassment.

“Someone please tell me before I get upset,” said Ellra very quietly, her hand shaking as she clutched the spoon.

“They’re teasing Poe,” said L’ulo matter-of-factly. “Not you.”

Ellra looked around in confusion. Poe looked away again and scratched his cheek.

“This morning, Poe said you were like a ray of sunshine,” said Jessika, placing a comforting hand on Ellra’s arm.

“He said that? Poe, you said that?” said Ellra, looking across as Poe admired his plate.

“Guilty,” he finally said in sing-song.

“Sorry we scared you,” said Snap, patting Ellra’s shoulder. “We’d never make fun of you like that.”

“It’s okay. I’m just always going to be a little self-conscious because I feel like I somehow got included with the cool kids when I shouldn’t be.”

“Hear that guys?” said Karé. “We’re the cool kids!”

“You’re _not_ the cool kids, Dolom,” said Jessika to one of the loitering pilots, poking his hip playfully.

“Screw you, Pava,” he said, chuckling and stepping out of her reach.

The conversation moved on to other things, but Ellra couldn’t stop glancing over at Poe who was adamantly avoiding her gaze. She smiled to herself as warmth spread through her body, from her chest out to her fingers. It was an extremely pleasant sensation and a refreshing one in that it wasn’t accompanied by a wave of self-consciousness.

After breakfast, Ellra trotted after Poe to catch him in the hallway.

“A ray of sunshine, huh?” she called playfully.

She caught up just in time to see Poe’s eyes flutter shut dramatically as he stopped.

“Is this gonna be one of those things I’ll never live down, like the sarlaac thing?” he groaned.

“Sarlaac thing?” she repeated.

Poe’s eyes snapped open and he bit his lip.

“Forget it. Will I ever live _this_ down?”

Ellra stood in front of Poe, innocently rocking back and forth, and watching his reactions carefully.

“No, no, no, Commander Poe Dameron,” she said, smirking, “you told your best friends that I am a ray of sunshine. I’m going to remind you of this every day.”

“Why?” he whined, collapsing theatrically against the wall.

“Because it’s sweet. It’s cute. It almost makes me think…” drawled Ellra, pausing dramatically.

“Think?” prompted Poe.

Ellra flicked her eyes up from the floor to meet Poe’s as she said, “It almost makes me think you like me.”

The corner of Poe’s mouth turned up and he fixed her with his most seductive, hotshot flyboy gaze.

“Does it?” he purred, shifting his weight away from the wall and standing up straight again.

“ _Should_ it?” she asked, her shyness now gone completely.

Poe sighed and shook his head, the grin never faltering. He said, “Ell, I’m only one man. I don’t know how many more hints I could possibly drop. BB-8 suggested writing it in the sky with my X-wing.”

“You saying I’m oblivious?” said Ellra, the smile that split her face almost blinding in its brilliance.

“No, no,” said Poe, looking away from her smile like it was the sun. “Connix with her headphones on is oblivious. _You’re_ a damn lost cause.”

“I only had to make sure.”

“Are you sure now?”

The pair eyed each other for a moment longer than necessary as Ellra planned her next words. After everything, she felt pretense was a waste of energy. She relaxed and offered Poe a gentle, natural smile.

“I’m as certain as possible,” she said softly.

“Good,” he said, visibly relieved.

Poe turned to go and Ellra called to him, “Wait, how will you know?”

“How will I know what?” he asked over his shoulder.

“You’re going to make me say it?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“At least you don’t have to write it in the sky,” said Poe with a shit-eating grin.

Ellra exhaled, chewing her bottom lip. She was genuinely baffled by the fact that she wasn’t even nervous. This whole exchange was proving more comforting than anything else and that in itself felt strange.

“How will you know that I like you?” she finally said, dropping her arms at her sides.

“I’m not as dense as you, Oka,” said Poe, folding his arms and grinning proudly. “I already know.”

With that, he whirled around and continued walking away.

“Bastard,” whispered Ellra, amusement and embarrassment battling for domination inside her.

“I heard that,” called Poe without turning around. “Stop picking up swear words from Ilya…”


	12. Briar and Rose

One morning, Ellra was finishing her morning chores when Controller Connix surprised her with a visit.

“Kaydel! How are you?” she asked, dusting her hands on her leggings.

Connix nodded and smiled.

“Not bad, all things considered. Thanks,” she said. “The general asked me to share some news with you.”

“Ooh, news,” said Ellra.

“Yeah. The new recruits are here. I’ve come to sync your datapad so you know their schedule. Leia wants you training with them as often as your work allows. They’ve already received basic military training from the academy, so you need to focus to catch up. The Resistance officers will be teaching them advanced stuff. But Leia thinks you’ll catch up in no time and be a top soldier.”

“The general said that?” gasped Ellra, pressing her fingers to her lips.

“Yeah. She and Poe… Well, a _lot_ of people actually, look forward to seeing how you do. Pretty much all of command is expecting to have to send the cappa back to your village so you can be a full-time fighter,” said Connix, smiling proudly.

“That would never happen,” said Ellra, smiling humbly at her own boots. “Animal care is probably the only thing I’ll ever be good at.”

“Don’t sell yourself short now,” said Connix, suddenly serious. “This isn’t some elite organization. I mean, granted, we _have_ a lot of elite, like Poe and Leia. But most of us are regular civilians who want to do right. You’re no different from seventy-five percent of the Resistance.”

“Really?” said Ellra, smiling slowly as she pulled a thick lock out of her face to meet Connix’s eye.

“Absolutely. Maybe you’re not good at flying or fighting or medicine or spying or programming or whatever, but you’ll be good at something of equal importance. And if you want, you can use that skill and talent to help. We’d all be proud to have you, Ellra,” said Connix. “That’s the truth.”

“Wow, Kaydel, that means…” began Ellra, pausing to gather her suddenly rushing thoughts. “That means so much to hear, to know. I don’t intend to disappoint anyone.”

“You won’t. Now, I gotta hurry back to command, so hold up your datapad.”

Ellra retrieved her pad from the crate in front of the animal enclosure and held it up in front of Connix. She gently tapped the datapad with her own and they both beeped a confirmation.

“There you go,” said Connix, folding her pad under one arm and gently placing her other hand on Ellra’s bicep. “I really hope you do well. Please don’t hurt yourself trying to fit in. We all believe in you – remember that. It was nice seeing you, Ell. Good luck.”

“Thanks, Kaydel. I’ll see you,” said Ellra, beaming.

Ellra hastily finished her chores, double checking the security feeds on her datapad before leaving the area and fixing it to her belt. She was eager to find the new recruits and join them in whatever training exercise they were already engaged in.

She trotted up the valley to the landing area and looked around, somehow expecting to see the new soldiers in formation in front of the hangar. She shook her head when she saw the tarmac empty but for a single Y-wing being noisily hammered on by a frustrated service droid.

“That’s silly,” said Ellra to herself. “I have their schedule.”

She took her datapad out and looked through the new notes Connix had sent her. There was more information available than she expected and she scrolled through until she found what she was looking for. The schedule didn’t begin until 13:00, after lunch, and it was only 10:40.

“Well,” drawled Ellra, shrugging to herself, “guess it’s early lunch for me.”

In the commissary, she found her missing soldiers. The new recruits were dispersed throughout the dining room, apparently taking advantage of the quiet period between lunch and breakfast.

Ellra suddenly felt as she had when she first arrived on D’Qar: shy, uncertain, out of place. She hastily selected her lunch and rushed out of the commissary, instead opting to eat her lunch in the shade of the hills outside, sitting on her favorite stack of crates that never seemed to move.

She ate her lunch leisurely and then busied herself with studying notes about X-wings and spaceflight on her datapad, almost forgetting about her plans to train, until a familiar voice boomed across the tarmac.

“Cadet Oka!”

Ellra jumped and nearly dropped her datapad. She wasn’t used to being yelled at or addressed so and it made her heart race.

“Who?” she said dumbly, looking around.

“Takin’ the new recruits out for some ground maneuvers,” said Poe, his officer’s uniform looking crisp, hands resting on his hips. “Wanna join?”

“I… Maneu…? What?” she mumbled, reorganizing her thoughts.

“Wanna _train_ , silly?”

“Oh, absolutely!” she cried, flinging herself off the crate.

Behind Poe was about fifteen of the new recruits, lined up in a sloppy formation, all shining in their new olive uniforms. The ones who would become mechanics, medics, technicians, pilots, communications specialists, and anything else, had already been sent to their respective areas to acclimate or train. This group constituted those who would become trained ground fighters.

“Hey, she can’t train in her civvies,” said one of the recruits, pointing to Ellra’s fleece tunic.

Poe shot the young man a look.

“She’s not military,” he said simply.

“Then why is she training with us?” asked another.

“Because she’s our guest!”

Ellra was at Poe’s side, panting slightly.

“The general actually requested it,” she said, tossing some curls out of her way.

That information made some of the soldiers mutter to one another.

Letting his eyes roam up and down Ellra’s outfit, Poe nodded in begrudging agreement with the first recruit. He leaned into her hair a bit and said softly, “We will have to get you your own uniform eventually.”

“Is pink not Resistance-y enough?”

Her smile was sassy; she felt suddenly bold. A couple of the recruits chuckled.

Poe smiled, letting his gaze soften as he looked into Ellra’s eyes.

“Here,” he said, handing her a heavy backpack she only just noticed. “You’ll need this. And please tie up your loose hair.”

Ellra took it and slipped her arms through the straps, settling the pack in the middle of her back. It was heavier than she expected, but the straps distributed the weight evenly and securely. She felt confident she could carry it all day.

She fished a big hair tie out of her pocket and pulled her loose curls into a huge ponytail at the back of her head; her braids hung freely in front.

“Fall in!” Poe suddenly barked, the softness in his eyes gone.

She didn’t jump this time. She trotted to the back of the group and fell in line with the other soldiers, ready to begin.

 

Ground training was fun for Ellra. She surprised Poe with her physical capabilities, but she had spent her entire life outdoors, living and working around animals and in the wilderness; it came naturally to her.

The first afternoon out, they played a game. Remotes were sent out into the jungle and the troops had to retrieve the “right” ones while avoiding the “wrong” ones.

The soldier who had said she couldn’t train in her civvies, Deegan, became a thorn in Ellra’s side. Perhaps he thought it was friendly competition, but she felt he was personally trying to sabotage her prospects in the Resistance.

The jungle of D’Qar was thicker and darker than the woods near Ellra’s village. Everything was dark green, and the humid air was stifling. The trees obscured the sky and the ground was covered in thick, leafy plantlife.

Ellra crept through the underbrush, listening for the distinct hum of the prowling black remotes as she pursued a red target remote.

She knelt at the edge of a short drop-off, using a leafy bush as cover, and watched a black remote circle around the red one below.

“Head’s up!” shouted Deegan, shoving Ellra over the drop-off before disappearing into the trees.

Ellra tumbled feet-over-head and landed hard on her back, the wind knocked clean out of her lungs. She lay on the ground for a long minute, trying to catch her breath.

The circling black remote came dangerously close to her prone form, but its rotating sensor eye was facing away at that moment, sparing her. She was determined not to lose the competition and she jumped to her feet.

“It’s not my first time hitting the ground, you bastard,” Ellra mumbled to herself, stretching her spine.

She tiptoed over and snatched the red remote out of the air right before the black one made another circuit. She scrambled up a tree trunk and back over the drop-off to safety before the black remote’s optical sensor turned her way.

Ellra wasn’t sure why she didn’t tell Poe how she got the red remote. It wasn’t a wall of silence type thing – she wanted Deegan to face consequences for shoving her – but she also didn’t want anyone, least of all the saboteur himself, to think her weak, so she kept the incident to herself.

Seven of the fifteen cadets retrieved red remotes, earning the group the rest of the afternoon off.

Ellra trotted gleefully to the repair bay to tell Magnus about her experience.

“You should seek medical attention,” he said, looking more concerned than she thought him capable of.

“I’m fine. It’s not my first time falling a tree’s height to the ground, Magnus.”

“Magnus, old boy, you’ve grown attached to the girl,” said Doxon. “What with recommending she see a doctor and all, I’ve never seen you so emotional.”

“I don’t wish a violent death on everyone, Dox,” sighed Magnus. “Just a select few.”

Ellra laughed. “I’m proud to be on your good side, Mag.”

“Dammit!” cried a soft voice not far away.

Ellra turned and saw a petit mechanic with a heavy piece of machinery that she was struggling to load onto a hovercart. She rushed over and helped her lift it.

“Whew,” said the mechanic, wiping her brow. “Thanks for that.”

“No problem,” said Ellra, smiling. “I’ve seen you around. Your name is Rose, isn’t it?”

“You’re the lady who takes care of the beasts, right?”

“Yeah. I’m Ellra. Just finished my first day of ground training. I’m going to officially join the Resistance!” said Ellra.

“That’s awesome. I’ve seen you hanging out with Magnus. We’re all surprised you can tolerate him,” said Rose, raising an eyebrow and looking over Ellra’s shoulder towards Magnus’ workspace.

Ellra chuckled. “He’s an acquired taste, that’s for sure.”

“I can hear you both; I’m six feet away,” said Magnus, peering at them through his spectacles.

The girls giggled.

At that moment BB-8 rolled up. He beeped hello to those present, then addressed Ellra.

“Hang on. Poe wants something?” she said, only knowing some of the words in Binary yet.

BB-8 beeped the same message but slower, emphasizing the last word.

“Poe wants to see _me_? Oh, tell him I’ll be right there!”

Ellra bid goodbye to her friends and left the hangar, spotting Poe standing by the entrance to the base. He had already changed back into his civilian attire, yet he somehow looked more dapper than usual.

“Hey,” said Ellra, jogging up to him. “You wanted to see me?”

“I did,” said Poe, pausing for a moment to smile affectionately at her. “You must be starving. I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me.”

She hummed a laugh and said, “Careful, Commander, that almost sounds like a date.”

“It would be,” he said, “if I could get better food and ambiance. But for now it’s just dinner. Wanna come anyway?”

“Absolutely!”

It was early for dinner, so the pair had plenty of room to sit by themselves. This was their first time dining alone and Ellra sincerely enjoyed the chance to talk to Poe one-on-one.

“You did really well today,” he said.

Ellra beamed. “Thank you! I’m pretty proud of myself too.”

“Next time Deegan tries something, you tell me, okay?”

“Okay. Wait – how did you know?”

He chucked. “I was watching the stalker remotes’ feeds on my datapad. I saw everything.”

Ellra looked away, embarrassed. She felt she had failed at something.

“Hey,” said Poe, reaching across the table to touch her hand, “I’m not going to baby you, or embarrass you. But that kind of behavior can’t be tolerated. Those guys aren’t in the academy anymore. They can’t play those kinds of games.”

Ellra finally met his eyes and nodded.

“It’s my job to make sure everyone is at their best. And Deegan was not at his best today. I’m going to talk to him about it tomorrow. I need to know you can trust me, too. Okay?”

She smiled. “Okay.”


	13. Hum

Black Squadron had another mission. They weren’t allowed to discuss it, but rumors circulated. The words “Hutt” and “prison” got whispered. Words that scared Ellra to the bone.

In her spare time during the two days leading up to the mission, she followed Poe around for no other reason than feeling like her mere presence would somehow cast a protective spell over his body.  She knotted a piece of reed twine around his wrist for good measure, ensuring that he was protected in her absence.

Ellra was in training the morning they left. She didn’t make it to the tarmac in time to bid Poe farewell, and her heart shuddered with fear and disappointment. The pilots were already in their fighters, engines humming, when she bolted out of the base, tidy in her new uniform.

“Hey, Poe!” she cried across the tarmac.

He looked up from the control panel in front of him and spotted her, his eyes lighting up. He stood up in the cockpit and leaned forward.

“What?” he cried back.

“Be careful!”

“Don’t I always?”

Ellra paused, unsure if she was ready to say this out loud. Everyone was watching now. She grinned to herself and took a deep breath.

“I’ll miss you! Come back to me!” she hollered, hands cupped at her mouth.

She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen Poe look that happy in all her time knowing him.

“Nothing could keep me away from you!” he called before blowing a kiss.

 

Having spent so much time in nature, Ellra adapted well to ground training. She had reasonable strength for someone her size, knowledge of plants and fauna, and good survival skills. While she wasn’t experienced like the other young soldiers, she held her own and did not require assistance to keep up. She also didn’t hesitate to call Deegan out on his bullshit.

The training also kept her mind off the dangers that her friends could be facing while out on their mission.

A few days later they arrived with more exciting stories to tell, but Poe was again solemn and worried.

Ellra asked, but Poe was even less forthcoming than the last time. She knew it wasn’t about her, or even Poe’s ability to trust her, but about the cause of his worry; it was dangerous even to contemplate. And that scared Ellra more, knowing some secret danger haunted the pilots of Black Squadron in addition to the dangers they already faced on their adventures. She wished with all her heart that she could go with them, as though she alone could protect them,

 

One afternoon she didn’t have training, Ellra was helping Rose reassemble an engine for an old shuttle that had required extensive repairs. Rose’s sister Paige, a pilot, was sitting close by, reading something on her datapad, occasionally pausing to help the pair out.

Rose was telling Ellra a story about her childhood and Ellra was humming an Ishta folk song, nodding occasionally to let Rose know she was still listening.

Snap and Poe came into the hangar with a pair of service droids, waving hello to the girls before going to work, planning a modification on Snap’s ship.

Ellra was focused on her work, not paying attention to much else, mumbling a lyric to the song aloud now and then. For some reason, this captured Poe’s attention.

Every now and then, whatever he was doing, he would look over his shoulder at Ellra and listen to her humming. This escaped neither Snap’s nor the sisters’ attention.

“Psst, Pae-Pae,” whispered Rose, using her nickname for her big sister. “Get a load of the love birds.”

Poe seemed annoyed that Ellra never looked back at him, so he started humming an old war song to himself as he worked on his datapad. It didn’t take long for Ellra’s singing to fall quiet as she noticed his. She continued working, but listened to Poe’s humming. Eventually he switched to some kind of love song; every now and then he sang out loud, “I want to hold your hand.” Whenever he sang that part, whatever she was doing, Ellra would subconsciously pause and stare at her hands.

“Okay,” said Rose, crossing the space to Snap’s X-wing. She grabbed Poe by the shoulders and said, “Ellra is helping me reassemble this engine. You’re distracting her and the work’s not getting done. Shut up.”

Poe bit back a laugh, his cheeks flushing. “Sorry, Rose. It won’t happen again.”

“Make love on your own time, Commander,” she said, smirking.

Ellra of course watched the exchange with nothing but confusion, but she went right back to work.

Ellra found that she had a natural talent for shooting. First being given a training blaster, her instructors were surprised that she had never fired a weapon before.

When Poe was able, he liked to be the one overseeing Ellra’s training, so he noticed her knack quickly and was quite impressed. Enough so that he mentioned this skill to the sniper coach, Colonel Umber, who decided that Ellra would train under her.

Ellra liked being a soldier. She liked the camaraderie, the physical challenge, the blaster training. She was excited to train under Umber and become a sniper.

Umber was an imposing woman. Tall and broad, with dark green skin, and eyes that glowed like embers. She wasn’t mean, but she was stark and stoic and powerful, which could be intimidating.

A couple of weeks into ground training, Ellra was sent up to a green hillside with a few other recruits to begin sniper practice. Poe took the afternoon off so that he could watch her, Black Squadron not having any particular missions at the moment.

Somehow, Ellra wasn’t intimidated but was instead comforted by his presence. Having all eyes on her, however, did make her nervous. Her hands shook under the pressure and she knew that she wouldn’t be at her best.

She lay on her belly in the soft grass, her hands trembling as she clutched the blaster rifle.

“I don’t think I can do this,” she whispered.

“You can,” said Poe, kneeling beside her.

“Quit coddling her, Poe,” said the colonel, shooting him a playfully stern look.

“Shut up, Lee,” he said.

He gently shifted Ellra’s left arm, nestling the rifle more snugly into her hand.

“The sight does all the work for you. Breathe. Trust your body.”

Ellra gasped and jerked the trigger back. The gun fired and a black scorch mark smoked in the grass half a meter away from the target.

“That was embarrassing,” said Umber, looking over her shoulder at Ellra, who was squeezing her eyes shut against tears of embarrassment.

“Don’t listen,” whispered Poe, putting a gentle hand between her should blades. “Inhale, hold, squeeze, exhale.”

Ellra repeated the mantra under her breath. Inhale. Hold. Squeeze. Exhale. Inhale. Hold. Squeeze. Exhale. Was the target always so far away?

“You can do this,” said Poe encouragingly, leaning back to give her space.

Inhale.

She drew a slow breath, flexing her fingers over the warm metal. Her eyes unfocused in front of her as she saw the target up close in her mind’s eye.

Hold.

As her lungs filled, she slipped her right index finger around the trigger. She envisioned the center of the target smoking like the scorch mark on the ground.

Squeeze.

Her left thumb balancing the weapon against her right hand, she tightened her finger around the trigger, feeling a strange sense of calm as the rifle twitched, releasing the energy beam into the space between her and the target.

“Son of a bitch…”

Poe slowly rose, staring at the distant target, the four words he just spoke having barely hissed through his teeth. He slowly turned his upper body to meet Umber’s bright eyes; she had paused mid-sentence to turn and gape at Ellra.

“How did you do that?” she demanded, the recruit on the ground beside her forgotten.

“Didn’t I do what I was supposed to?” asked Ellra, getting up on her knees and holding the rifle close, barrel up.

“You did _exactly_ what you were supposed to do,” said Poe, “after six weeks of practice.”

Ellra turned to him then to the target in the distant shrubbery where a single, tiny black hole smoked in the dead center.

She watched as Poe’s eyes moved quickly between her face, the gun in her hands, Umber, and the target.

“D-did you…?” he stammered.

Poe gestured vaguely to the target and the rifle. He leaned closer to Ellra and stage whispered, “…You know, the _Force_?”

She frowned, but before she could respond, he shook his head dismissively and said, “I know, I know. You don’t believe in the Force. But you just did something!”

“I closed everything else out and focused on the target. I did what you said and breathed,” said Ellra.

Poe chewed his lip and nodded softly.

“You’re somethin’.”

 

Ellra quickly became Colonel Umber’s top student thanks to her abilities. She all but stopped her ground training and focused on becoming a sniper, which progressed surprisingly fast.

She didn’t need to be told to hide in the sun so her enemies wouldn’t see her, as she had watched birds of prey swoop down on small creatures right from the midday sun many times. This was her favorite tactic and she used it religiously during training with the other recruits; she would have the most “kills” because of the diffused glare of D’Qar’s sun through the clouds.

Ellra’s talent impressed even General Organa, who officially gave her the rank of Cadet and welcomed her into the chain of command. Her livestock duties trumped her training, but she was officially part of the Resistance now and there was no going back.

Everyone at home was so proud when she told them over holo, except for her cousin who seemed more worried than impressed, but Ellra assured her that she would be fine and would make her proud someday.

 

One morning before training, Poe flagged Ellra down in the commissary.

“Hey, can I talk to you?”

She nodded and they sat down together. As she sprinkled hot sauce on her eggs, Poe began.

“You’re friends with damn near every social group on base. You helped the mechanics, the nurses gave you first aid training, maintenance and kitchen consider you one of their own. It’s really impressive. And cute.”

Ellra smiled softly, avoiding Poe’s adamant gaze.

“But there’s one group you’re friendly with whom you haven’t yet let teach you anything,” he said.

Ellra’s eyes flew to four people in orange jumpsuits at the next table who were finishing their breakfast before heading out on a scouting mission.

“You’re wondering why I haven’t asked you to teach me to fly,” she said softly.

“It’s not even personal,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “I wonder why you haven’t asked _anyone_.”

She thought of the simplest answer she could, but it sounded so lame on her lips: “I’m scared.”

Poe was clearly having none of it. He scoffed and said, “You learned to set broken bones. You’re training to become a sniper. Flying’s nothing to that. What are you scared of _specifically_? Training? Being in the air? Having to be alone with a sexy pilot who might break down your defenses and find his way into your cold, cold heart?”

She couldn’t even look serious. She laughed softly and looked up to see Poe’s crooked grin.

“What, uh, what was that last one?” she asked, blinking thoughtfully.

“Airsickness,” Poe said quickly, the smirk cracking into a full smile.

Ellra reached across the table and placed her hand on his.

“I’m comfortable with you, Poe. I trust you and the other pilots more than I can say. You’re all lovely,” she said, after a thoughtful pause. “I am afraid that I will be good enough to become a pilot but not good enough to support you all on an actual mission. I’m afraid of failing. Failing the pilots, failing the Resistance… failing _you_. I don’t think I’ll become the pilot you want me to be and I’m so scared of disappointing you.”

“Oh, shit, Ell,” sighed Poe, ruffling his hair back from his forehead. “I didn’t mean to set you up like that. You don’t… I never meant for you to think you had some impossible standard to live up to.”

The anxiety that had crept into her chest since the day Poe told her he saw stars in her eyes suddenly vanished. She had built it up in her head that she had to be what Poe wanted her to be and suddenly she didn’t have to. She could breathe again.

“I thought…” she began.

Poe shook his head.

“I want to teach you to fly so you can do something you love, not because you have to. I wanna see the look on your face the first time you break the atmosphere. I don’t want to see you… to see you _fight_.”

“I want to fly. I want to fly with you,” she said a little too quickly, her excitement overloading her caution.

“Then we’ll fly,” he said, grinning roguishly.


End file.
